Life, and Other Annoyances
by Izaranna
Summary: "I've been informed that having large breasts is a good thing. I have been told many lies." In which a wimp is destined to be the sand sibling's babysitter, and everything goes wrong even before that. SasoriXOC Semi-SI Self-Insert Lighthearted!OC The sillies are strong in this one.
1. Woes of the Desert

_'I think you're suffering from a lack of Vitamin Me.'_

* * *

I have been told that having a well-endowed chest area isn't a bad thing. I have been told many lies.

At the age of fifteen and with nary a skill to call my own, I have decided quite firmly that I am happy with my existence. And by happy, I mean that I am extremely capable of nodding along with what everybody else says and not daring telling anyone what I'm _really_ thinking.

And by _really_ thinking, I mean I'm confused.

Not _confused_ confused, but still confused.

If rebirth was a plausible theory in the Arabian Desert, I would have been prepared for this. Of course, not _prepared_ prepared, but prepared nonetheless.

Good morning. My name is Yori, and I am a member of Sunagakure no Sato, specifically the on-call nanny for Kazekage-sama's wife.

Good morning. I am scared out of my mind and I have no idea what's going on.

* * *

It all started with a little apartment, two people with far too many issues to mention safely, and a dream.

Picture this: the Third Shinobi War had been raging for over three years and the rationing just _kept getting worse_. Starvation was rampant, the water scarce, and the sun blistering. A young woman named…what was it again? Oh yeah, Haruka, sorry—decided that her husband just couldn't handle being a proper undrunk member of society, so she wanted to have someone who wasn't pissed and came home at ungodly hours.

Her limbs were thinning every day, her muscles were threatening to strike for a worker's union, and her belly was swelling uncontrollably for nine months.

Shin, the good-for-nothing husband, loved his wife unconditionally.

She had a baby, and the girl was… _nothing_ like what they had expected, if they had expected anything at all.

Because the baby _wouldn't_ _stop crying_!

Every morning and every night, the two overworked and underpaid parents took care of the world's fussiest baby.

Three sandstorms, lots of traumatising scorpion incidents, _bathing_ and _pooping_ and _whinging_ later, Yori-chan could be considered, by the majority of society, to be _Okay_.

Mama Haruka and Dada Shin had different thoughts on the matter. A fear of heights, spiders, ants, small animals, large animals and baby carrots ensured that Yori-chan wasn't the best candidate for a functioning member of society.

Come to that, Yori-chan knew it too, but you didn't hear that from her, oh no!

She was too much of a scaredy-cat to be assertive, even with self-deprecation. I mean, her parents wanted to tell her of course, but, due to her battered ego and low self-esteem, they decided not to share their thoughts with her.

They thought she would be a shinobi like her father. They thought she would be ambitious like her mother. They thought she would do _something_ worthwhile.

All they ended up doing was sighing as she screamed in the bathroom every time she saw a spider, cowered every time someone asked her what she wanted for dinner, and ran screaming the minute someone even looked in her general direction.

Mama Haruka and Dada Shin were…to put it frankly, _embarrassed_ by their daughter.

So, she wouldn't be a shinobi in a village where even the civilians had rudimentary shinobi training. So, she wouldn't be ambitious in the most cutthroat of the five Great Hidden Villages. So, they sighed and tried to hide it from the world.

* * *

Another way to start this story would be...

* * *

In a little apartment in the middle of the desert's greatest building, where the sand blew and the sun turned everything to a blistering crisp, came the cry of a child.

The cry was filled with abject horror, utter disbelief and at a teeth-grinding pitch. Inside the little apartment lived a man and a woman with their ten month old child. The man was a desk chuunin and the mother was a caretaker at the Kazekage household. The ten month old was afraid of spiders—hence the shrieking.

In the upper left corner of a room inside the little apartment sat a spider, blindly reacting to the red-faced child by frantically twitching its legs, making the little girl cry harder. Running into the room, the woman took the girl into her arms and shushed her gently.

"Hush Yori-chan, it's okay, mama's here."

In a short moment, the spider would be squashed, the tears would be dried, and the man would return from work.

It would take Yori-chan three years to realise that her world was a fictional tale on a screen that she never bothered to watch; the one her stepsister used to gush over.

It would take Yori-chan six years before she could get over the shock of realising.

It would take Yori-chan nine years to decide that cake was something she missed so much that she was willing to open her own bakery to feed her craving.

It would take Yori-chan eleven years to realise that she had grown up in the middle of a war, and that the thinness of her limbs wasn't caused by her parent's poverty, but rather by food shortages and rationing.

It would take Yori-chan thirteen years to hit puberty and realise she was scared to death of a proper relationship and, thusly, vowed to stay celibate for life.

It would be another fourteen years before she lost another mother and was forced to take her place at the Kazekage Tower.

But for now she took solace in her mother's arms, sniffing as a crying child is wont to do, feeling great relief that the twitchy spider was dead. She was a wimp, and in a world where courage was a necessity for survival, had she not been born to the parents she had been, she would have been dead three times over.

* * *

 **My second SI/OC story, and it _isn't_ going to be as politicky as the other one. I hope you stick around for the ride!**


	2. Woes of Attracting Lolicons

_'Don't be a defeatist dear. It's very middle class.'_

* * *

Haruka was an ambitious woman who wasn't very subtle with her thoughts. There were many a life lessons she had imparted to her Yori-chan but now, with her body freshly burned and her memory heavy in her family's hearts, mama didn't have a chance anymore.

Daddy and daughter bowed their heads and prayed every night for fifteen nights for the safe passage of their beloved Haruka, and then went about trying to pick up their lives from the rubble of their hearts.

Shin worked for more than fifteen hours a day after his wife's death to keep a roof over his Yori-chan's head, and Yori-chan picked up the household slack that her mama's death had caused.

The desert sun beat down on the short girl, her eyes searching for the right sort of tomatoes for dinner (if there even were any tomatoes left in the market place).

Sashaying from stall to stall and managing not to bump into anything, Yori-chan navigated her way around the marketplace, nervously searching for all the things she needed for dinner.

It was when she was at a vegetable stall that she noticed _it_.

 _ **The baby carrot.**_

Backing away from _it_ in horror, she didn't see where she was going and whose way she was standing in. She bumped into a boy about two years older than her and, seeing a hitai-ate tied firmly across his forehead, Yori-chan with the perpetually watery eyes and nervous eyebrows, apologised over and over again, head bowing roughly four times in a two minute apology.

The boy with an angular face, strong jawline and troughs under his eyes, fared no better. His apology was just as long-winded, his arms nervously clutching the air in an attempt to express just how sorry he was.

At the precise moment when they both had wound down on their emphatic apologising, a third person, male, crashed into them, running at around twenty miles a minute.

The three fell to the ground with Yori-chan squashed underneath them, the hot sand biting into her inner arms and knees.

Yet another boy appeared then, his eyes half-lidded and uninterested, his messy red hair falling into his eyes. Looking at the pile of limbs at his feet, he sighed.

"Komushi, you need to watch where you're going."

The one who had been running dusted himself off with his hands, one made of flesh and the other made of wood. He then reached a hand out to the other two.

"Sorry 'bout that! I was runnin', and you were there, and _you_ were there, and t'was all a bit of a mess really and I'm Komushi! Hi!"

Komushi, with his boundless enthusiasm, scared Yori-chan, especially as she saw the glint of his own hitai-ate. In fact, the bored boy behind him had one as well, and she knew he was the same age as her.

Choosing to pick herself up instead of taking the wooden appendage (she noticed that the other boy took the proffered hand), Yori-chan apologised again, this time with a bit more fear.

"I-I'll be on my way then. I'm sorry for standing in your way Komushi-san. I-I promise I won't do it again." She had no idea why that was even apology-worthy and she really felt that he should have been watching where he was going.

But on the other hand, he could snap her neck like a twig and she wasn't very keen to see just how much prodding it would take.

"Hey, it wasn't anyone's fault! If anythin', it was Sasori-kun's, but then, it's _Sasori-kun_ , so it isn't anyone's, right Sasori-kun?" he said, turning to the bored boy for affirmation.

Yori-chan's head swam and her breath caught in her throat. She wanted to run away _fast_ and never look back because that was _Akasuna no Sasori_ and _of course it wasn't his bloody fault Komushi-san!_

Instead, she whimpered before saying, "Regardless, I will try to avoid—"

"I, as well, apologise, and I would, of course, never be, that is to say, firmly believing that, in all honesty, I am clumsy, and so, henceforth, I shall, in fact, avoid this street, so as to, in essence, prevent such accidents from occurring, due to my presence." said the boy that had, in all honesty, bumped into _her_ and not the other way around.

But of course, Yori-chan was a nervous little chit and could hardly be expected to blame anyone else for her lack of coordination and spacial awareness.

Komushi's large grey eyes widened further. "No! You don' have to do that! Seriously, both of you, it's fine!"

"Komushi, they can avoid the street or drown themselves for all I care. We need to be at the mission assignments desk in three minutes and we will **not** be late."

"Oh, _alright_. You're so punctual Sasori-kun; the mission desk isn't going to fly away you know!" said Komushi good-naturedly before turning back to the other two. "You're Isago-san right? I've seen you at the border! Who're you ojou-chan?"

"Yori." she said quietly, glad that things were winding down and she could make a hasty retreat.

Flashing her a grin, he said, "See you around Yori-chan!" before patting her head and yelling at Sasori to slow down, because he was halfway across the street.

"Well, I'll be on my way then. Sorry once again Yori-chan." said Isago, and Yori-chan's eye twitched imperceptibly. She was short and had wide blue eyes; that did _not_ mean she was a child!

"It's alright Isago-san…" she began, but he'd already fled into the crowd and disappeared.

Yori-chan continued with her grocery shopping thereafter, and thankfully didn't bump into anyone even remotely interesting.

Well, except for Ikanago-san, who was seven years older than her fourteen and was ready to marry her at the slightest hint of willingness.

Yori-chan generally steered clear of that sort of drama, but unfortunately, that drama was hers.

"My fair Yori-chan, what brings you to this unforgiving market?"

"Certainly not _you_ , that's for sure, you perverted lolicon…" she mumbled.

Yes, you see, Yori-chan was sassy, but only when she knew no one could hear her; she was a wimp.

"What was that my beloved?" he asked, leaning in closer to the short girl.

Yori-chan was mentally screaming for help, but of course, her wimpy nature ensured that even _that_ wasn't possible.

"I-I have to get home Ikanago-san…so if you'll…um, excuse me..." she said, a little louder (but not by much) and Ikanago, with the decency his father had beaten into him, offered to walk her there.

Yori-chan, even though she hadn't finished shopping, bit her lip and nervously followed him back to the Kazekage Tower.

 _Why me?_ she thought, her misery reaching new heights.

Fate, of course, had decided that Yori-chan, Mistress of Gutlessness, needed yet another problem in her life.

Walking out of the Kazekage Tower and holding a green scroll each, Komushi and Sasori were heading directly towards them.

Yori-chan's heart was beating fast and her throat was constricting with fear; if Sasori tilted his head exactly 179 degrees to the right, he might _see_ her!

That was far too few degrees for an error margin; Yori-chan needed to run.

Never mind that if he actually did do that, his neck would snap clean off. Logic has no place in her brain, the idiot…

"Yori-chan, what are you doing?" asked Ikanago, his worry for her increasing by an exponential number, because he had never seen _anyone_ manage to crab-walk so conspicuously.

"Me?" she asked in a high-pitched voice filled with so much forced calm that it fooled absolutely no one. "I'm fine! Just…practicing a new meditation stance! It…it helps with dexterity?"

"Ah, how very youthful of you Yori-chan!" he exclaimed, his rose-tinted vision sparkling and covering her with rose petals once more.

Yori-chan shuddered—never in a million years did she think she would be called _youthful_ (it was only ever acceptable coming from Gai and Lee's mouths. Anyone else and it was just _wrong_ )—and then giggled nervously, checking behind Ikanago-san's head for the two red-haired boys.

Relaxing when she realised the coast was clear, she smiled tentatively at her brunet companion. "Thank you for accompanying me this far Ikanago-san. I will be fine from here."

"Please, call me Ikanago-kun."

A bead of sweat rolled down her cheek as she nodded, eager to get rid of the creepy guy that her Papa Shin had introduced her to when she was ten.

He'd been interested her even then, the lolicon…

"Ah, Yori-chan! I didn't think I'd see you again so soon! What are you doing at the Kazekage Tower?" exclaimed an excited voice.

Turning around slowly with dread filling her mind, Yori-chan saw Komushi-san and _oh Kami-sama it's Sasori of the Akatsuki and he's going to_ _ **kill me—**_

"Y-yeah…what a-a coincidence...?"

So far, Akasuna no Sasori was just as bored as he had been the first time they'd 'bumped into each other', as it were. Komushi just seemed more excited than before, if that was even possible. Yori-chan could swear there were sparkles popping out of his eyes, but she would never mention this of course. She didn't want to die after all.

"We just got assigned a mission; gotta kill a bunch of enemy-nin and give some stuff to some people and then we'll be back and we can go get something to eat together and it'll be fun right? Right Sasori-kun?" said Komushi, without taking a single breath in between.

Sasori had the most expressive face that she'd ever seen him make—he twitched in annoyance. "Do what you want Komushi."

"Um…I have…somewhere to be right now." she said, her knees knocking when she realised the noises coming out of her mouth had caused Sasori to glance at her for an instant.

 _Oh God, he was going to kill her now for_ _ **sure**_ _and—_

"I'm not going to eat you." he said with no intonation, as though addressing a curator at an art exhibition about a particularly uninteresting exhibit.

Yori-chan was sure she was going to die now, if not because he chakra-stringed her to death then because of embarrassment.

"You're Akasuna no Sasori! How do you know my beloved Yori-chan?" demanded Ikanago, standing possessively in front of Yori.

Her eye twitched again, but she did nothing.

"EH?! Yori-chan, this old guy is your boyfriend?" Komushi asked, wide eyes tearing up and looking disappointed. "And here I thought you were a pure maiden…such a let-down…"

"Komushi-san…" she began, tearing up from the plain humiliation she had to endure.

"Komushi, if this is about what Chiyo-obaa-san said, I've told you I could care less." said Sasori, his annoyance having disappeared and a bored look settling on his face once again.

Komushi turned to him and pouted, before sighing and giving in. "Oh _alright_! Sorry if I was coming on a bit too strongly Yori-chan! But I would like to get to know you better." he said, his voice modulating to a more acceptable level.

"I demand an answer! If you have evil designs on—" Ikanago began.

"Who has evil designs on who Oyaji!?" yelled Komushi, attracting the interest of literally every person in their vicinity.

"Komushi." Sasori said, and then turned and walked away, as if any limited interest he had had in the commotion had completely disappeared.

"Eh, wait up Sasori-kun! See you soon Yori-chan!" he said chirpily before sticking his tongue out at Ikanago (his face was a livid plum colour, and he was muttering about only being "twenty one years old, you little brat…") and chasing after Sasori, who had once again left him behind.

Yori raised her hand in farewell reflexively, and before Ikanago could recover, she bowed her head to him once and then basically ran up the flights of stairs till she reached the door that led down an underground tunnel to the Kazekage's residence.

The Third Kazekage was the strongest shinobi in Suna's history (well, Yori amended, at this current point in time at any rate, to the knowledge of everybody else) and was roughly thirty seven years old. He had no heirs but his little brother (who was now dead—some mission or another, Yori wasn't really all that knowledgeable about the specifics) had been taken care of by Mama Haruka.

And this was where Yori had been born and had lived her whole life. The house with its cream walls and sparse furnishings was where she'd toddled and bumped her head (that was yet another incident in her life that had scarred her), pricked her fingers on the seamstress' spindle (Princess Aurora was lucky she'd fainted instantly, because it _hurt_ ) and where she'd learnt about her entire existence.

Yori had been a different girl with different morals and a different personality before being pushed out of a tiny hole and breathing in the raw air of the desert. Yori hadn't even been Yori really, more of a mixture of could have been, should have been and might have been in one tiny little body with mousy brown hair and wide blue eyes.

Yori had been Rose, and Rose had been sarcastic and witty and just a little bit afraid. Rose had become Yori, and Yori was meek and cynical and afraid of her own shadow.

She didn't know how it happened, that her courage died so abruptly just as she had been given a new set of lungs to breathe and a new pair of eyes to see, but happen it did. Yori was now no longer Rose, Rose was in Yori's past, just like the yelling and screaming and racism and the blindness.

And what a shock seeing colours had been! For the first time in thirteen years, Rose (not quite Yori at the time) had been able to see colour.

There was the red of cheeks and lips, the green of Mama Haruka's clothes, the bright yellows and oranges of the desert landscape, the blues of Papa Shin's eyes…

She had cried and cried and _cried_ , first from fear, then from wonder, then from relief, then from fear again because _everything was so new and wonderful and_ _ **alien**_ —

Yori set the dinner table, cutting the meat she'd managed to procure from the market (she had no idea what type of meat it was, but it didn't smell like it was rotting and that was good enough for her) and bringing a saucepan of water to boil.

She lived in the Kazekage's house, was a contributing part of the Kazekage's household staff ever since her mother's passing, taking over the job of a cleaner until the Kazekage decided to have a child.

Seeing as he wasn't even married, the likelihood of _that_ in the near future were so slim she could safely begin planning her retirement before it happened.

The sound of someone's footsteps approaching her reached her ears long before she registered Papa Shin with her eyes—force of habit and all that (there were some things that would always stick with her that had been Rose)

"Okaeri nasai papa! How was work?" she asked, smiling as she turned around. Papa Shin smiled back at his daughter, his cheeks flushed (she hoped he was only slightly tipsy, because if he collapsed in the hallway again, she had _no_ idea how to carry him back).

"I heard you caused quite a commotion outside Yori-chan! Three men fighting over you—Papa's really proud!" he said, smiling beatifically.

"Ehehe…" Yori nervously giggled before staring at the pot of boiling meat with more intensity than it warranted.

"Who were they musume? Were they rich?" Papa Shin started drooling at the thought of Yori bringing home a rich husband (or going to rich husband's home, he wasn't too fussed really).

"Not really papa…Papa, I don't want to get married!" she said, going a bit high-pitched at the end. Her father waved her off.

"Of course you do, every woman does. You'll see, you'll find a nice rich husband, preferably really high up the food chain, and then settle down and give Papa lots of money and saké…" His head were in the clouds again, and Yori-chan pouted.

Papa Shin was a bit of a money-grubber, but he was her papa—a bit of a heavy drinker, a bit of an opportunist, _very_ embarrassing, but still family.

Privately, Yori knew she would get married someday, because commitment scared her but a future alone scared her even more. A couple of children and a husband that worked well enough for the both of them to manage to get food on the table…now, all she had to do was get over her fears and self-esteem issues, and she would be golden!

…if only life were that simple.

"So who were they musume?" he asked, snapping out of his fantasies.

"Two shinobi who were just being nice and Ikanago-san being a grade A—" Yori stopped herself, chiding herself for letting Rose come out.

"Ikanago-san! Oh, you lucky lucky girl! He's a shoe-in for a position in the Suna Council, and he's also _completely_ straight-laced! No worries about him shaking someone else's sheets on the side, I can tell you that!"

"Papa!" she exclaimed, appalled at even the thought of spending three minutes in Ikanago's presence, let alone _years_. Her papa was just too much!

She added spices to the meat stew as her father fantasised about more money for booze than he could spend, and by the time she placed a bowl with some rice in front of him, he had collapsed, snoring and dead to the world.

Yori contemplated how to get him to his room and looked to the hallway that led to his room, which seemed to stretch longer and longer the more time she spent staring at it in despair.

Then, as a dutiful daughter ought to, she ate her meal and left him at the table.

He wasn't _that_ old; back problems were still a long time coming.

 _Besides_ , Yori thought as she drifted off to sleep between her coarse blanket and thin bedsheet, her head resting on a pillow too thin for a proper night's sleep without waking up at least once to readjust her position, _Papa shouldn't be drinking so much anyway. What would mama say?…_

* * *

Miles away with his back to his comrades and facing hordes of Iwagakure shinobi, Sasori of the Blood Red Sand lived up to his moniker, his puppets _tearing_ into the enemy and drenching the desert with the blood of so many that it would take decades for the witnesses to forget.

The desert though, would remember forever.

* * *

 _Well, there's the back story and the Sasori interaction! So **heated** yeah? Why, they were practically doing the horizontal tango right there! 'I'm not going to eat you.' indeed! How very indecent, and in public too! All joking aside though, thoughts?_


	3. Woes of Mild Starvation

' _I'm a woman. I can be as contrary as I choose.'_

* * *

The next morning was an exercise in restraining Rose, because when Papa Shin woke up, he remembered none of last night.

"Mama Haruka isn't even cold in her grave yet and already Papa's been sleeping around!" he screeched as he awoke and took stock of exactly where it hurt. "I'm sorry Haruka-chan!" he looked up to the heavens, tears pouring down his face.

Yori with her far-too-sensitive-for-this-shit hearing jumped out of bed, her eyes still closed and hands up in a mildly racist karate position.

It took her a few seconds to remember (would she ever reflexively remember?) that total darkness was not normal, and so she opened her eyes, welcoming the heat of the morning and the yellow lighting up her tiny room with a weary sigh.

"Papa! Is everything okay?" she asked worriedly, not entirely sure what was wrong. ( _She_ _ **knew**_ _she shouldn't have interacted with so many shinobi! They had come to kill her and she had_ _ **no idea what to**_ **do—** )

"I will never have sex again!" Papa Shin screamed, loud enough for the entire household to hear, and Yori face-palmed.

Someone popped their head into their house after Yori quickly changed and brushed her teeth. She was far taller than Yori (which wasn't really difficult as she was a midget), with an A cup (three sizes smaller than Yori).

"What's the noise for so early in the morning Shin-han?" asked Nae, her dark brown hair in a low ponytail, ready for the misery of the day to follow.

Papa Shin turned to her so fast Nae startled, and then came crawling over to her with the speed of a viper and began sobbing even louder, his hangover undoubtedly being a contributing factor to his tears. "You still have faith in me, yes Nae-chan?"

"Uh…of course I do Shin-han." she said, patting him on the head a couple of times as he began crying comically again.

Yori suppressed a twitch of annoyance. _Baka papa! Clinging to an eight year old like that! So…vulgar…_

"Ne, Nae-chan, do you want to come in for breakfast?" she asked, a soft smile lighting up her face. _It's the least I can do after papa's idiocy_.

Nae had a light blush on her face as she saw Yori's smile, her heart beating faster for some reason. "I can have Nee-chan's cooking?" she asked happily, and when Yori nodded, she ran into the kitchen and sat there looking very similar to an overexcited puppy (Yori could even imagine a tail wagging), causing Papa Shin to smack his face onto the hard ground.

He got up with even more tears streaming down his face. "No one loves me!"

"Papa!"

* * *

It was an early morning as usual, and Yori and Nae worked hard to clean up all the rooms they were assigned to, with Nae being incapable of doing many of the jobs, considering she _was_ only eight. Yori managed everything, being surprisingly competent considering how unreliable she looked.

But then, cleaning is a biddable trait in any world, so it wasn't something she had to learn all over again after all.

Yori remembered how difficult it was to learn how to speak whatever this language was (it was at the tip of her tongue what it was called, but Yori just _couldn't_ seem to remember), how easily she had forgotten her own language (even that was really hard to remember, which just made her realise how useless she really was), how mama and papa had thought she was just dumb when she still hadn't managed to speak full sentences by the age of four and how she still had an alleged 'adorable' lisp to this day, where some of her 'r's came out as 'l's.

The bedsheets were stripped in various rooms and brought to the laundry room, the floors were swept and the shelves were dusted and wiped. This took Nae and Yori the entire morning to do, as per usual, and then Yori had to go finish the grocery shopping that she couldn't the day before due to Ikanago and his interference (it scared her to go outside…what if she met _canon characters!?_ )

Sighing dramatically before carefully peeping out of the main doors of the Kazekage Tower and seeing that the coast was clear of any recognisable figures, Yori headed back into the marketplace, lamenting the fact that the best products would have run out yesterday and only scraps would be left.

 _Maybe I don't really need good tomatoes, or any tomatoes at all for that matter…_ she mused.

A few essentials she'd missed out on yesterday were bought, the quality and quantity both poor, the shopkeepers grumpy and unhelpful, the heat murderous and her own spirit waning with every bad egg she came across.

 _War really was hard, especially on the tummy…_ she thought morosely, pouting at the expired tinned fruits.

"Yori-chan!" screamed a voice from behind her, excitement hitting her in waves. She didn't turn around to acknowledge Komushi-san (because _of course_ it was him) and instead began sweating more than she already was and began the world's most conspicuous crabwalk towards the beckoning backroom.

Unfortunately, the thing about outrunning shinobi (of the excited variety no less) was that it was just plain impossible, especially for someone like Yori, who just seemed to attract pushy people.

He reached her (with no Sasori in tow, thank Kami-sama!) and tapped her shoulder, completely oblivious to the fact that she was trying to run away from him. "Hey, are you free 'cause I'm free and we could get that lunch right now because I don' have to report to the missions desk for a while yet but s'alright if you don't want to but you _do_ want to right? So let's go!"

Yori whimpered, being unable (and unwilling really, who wants their head bitten off anyway?!) to interject. _This guy has a serious case of mouth diarrhoea…_

Komushi with his dull red hair and unacceptably wide grey eyes took her to a place called…Yori had to squint _really_ hard to see what was written on the peeling sign… _The Gassy Goose?!_

It was a small pub with quite a few patrons (none of whom, she was sure, could afford what they were ordering), wide enough windows and a musty smell that seemed to cling to _everything_. Yori gulped, unwilling to go in but being dragged in anyway.

"Oi, Komushi! Nice catch!" someone yelled from the barstools. Yori blushed in embarrassment, hoping the earth would swallow her soon because this was just…

"Up yours Ganji!" Komushi yelled back cheerfully ( _What was wrong with this guy!?)_ Turning to her, he asked, "What would you like Yori-chan? The food here isn' the best, but then, no place has good food in the first place, so it has _great_ food really!"

At his smiling expectant face, Yori was loathe to admit she'd never been to a pub ( _and with good reason too, Gassy Goose…seriously, who in their right minds would_ want _to subject themselves to the indignity?_ ) and therefore had no idea what the cuisine was like.

"Um…I'll have what you have." she said, looking at her feet with unflinching concentration. She hoped he wasn't a fan of baby carrots, because if she saw even _one_ , she might actually start crying. And wouldn't that be embarrassing?

Some guys at the table over from the one Komushi had taken them to wolf-whistled.

Komushi flipped them a bird casually and then said, "Okay! I'll have kabsa, ful tameez and kunafe with some coffee for dessert! Is that alright with you? I'll be paying o'course."

For the first time in over eight years, there was not a trace of nervousness on Yori's face in the presence of a shinobi. She smiled radiantly at him, her wide blue eyes sparkling. "I can have all of that? Really?"

Komushi had a light blush on his face as he scratched the back of his neck. "Y-yeah!"

The waiter was called and the order was placed, and Yori hadn't been this excited in a _long_ time. Rationing was _hard_ on a girl that remembered having three full course meals a day, with snacks whenever she had so desired.

Food brought people together, and it was working its magic on the two people sitting opposite each other (the grocery bags sitting on the third chair) in a dingy pub with a raucous crowd.

The waiter brought a platter of dull orange rice that smelled mouth-wateringly divine, a flavourful bowl of a creamy paste and two large naans, and when they had eaten their fill of these two things (Yori was crying with happiness on the inside) vermicelli with a white sticky gooey cheese filling was brought out with two cups of mildly sweetened coffee.

It was more than Yori had eaten in one sitting in the last thirteen years, but she thought she was in love.

"How do you make these?" she asked Komushi, who looked startled at the unwavering curiosity in her voice.

He marvelled at the fact that, as Sasori so aptly put it, when she didn't look like they were going to eat her, she actually had a very sweet voice and expression.

"Don' know, but we can ask!" he said cheerfully, before asking, "So, you and Ikanago-san huh? How did _that_ happen?"

"Um…" she fidgeted, before taking a deep breath to finally dispel the misconception. "Actually, Ikanago-san is just an…acquaintance. We're not really…you know, like _that_."

" _Really?!_ Oh, this is just _amazing_!" he said, his excitement a whole other level of inappropriateness.

Quickly, before his imagination could do with that information what it pleased, Yori said, "But I'm not interested in a relationship at this stage, really Komushi-san! I'm only fourteen!"

"Eh, so what? I'm fifteen and Sasori-kun's fourteen too! This truly _is_ perfect!"

And he was gone, his head in the clouds. Yori sighed once more, but when she bit into the kunafe and her mouth exploded with the sweet fluffy goodness, she found herself caring a lot less than she had previously.

When the waiter came with the cheque, Komushi told him to "put it on Akasuna no Sasori's tab!" so cheerfully that Yori felt worried for _his_ life when Sasori inevitably found out. But she got the recipe for the kunafe, so she forgot about it soon enough.

He walked her home, talking about their families. ("Sorry for your loss Yori-chan. I'm sure your Okaa-san is proud of you!" "Thank you Komushi-san." And "You _live_ with Sasori-san?" "Yeah! Well, him and his obaa-san and his great uncle, but yeah! I work for'em, and the village, 'nd I help with Sasori-kun's poisons!")

Reaching the Kazekage Tower, Komushi turned fully to her and said, "This was a lot of fun Yori-chan! We should do this again some time!"

She nodded, thinking about the kunafe with so much love and adoration…

"How about the day after tomorrow? Sasori-kun will be back by then and we can go for a meal together!" he said, a grin on his face and, of course, undiluted excitement in his eyes.

She was about to say no (food was one thing, Akasuna no _bloody way_ Sasori was quite another), but then she felt something on her left ankle.

Looking down, trembling with fear, she saw—"KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

"Yori-chan?" Komushi asked, startled.

"Get if off, get it off, **get it off!** " she screeched hysterically, and when Komushi looked down at what she was looking at, he saw a tiny little spider the size of a grain of rice, and sweatdropped.

"Hold still Yori-chan!" and he got the spider off, squashing it between his fingers, to Yori's disgusted relief.

He looked at the time and hurriedly said, "So, see you Tuesday Yori-chan! Wear something nice!"

"Wait, like a…date? Komushi-san!"

* * *

Chiyo, even though she had a stable career (for a shinobi anyway), lots of money, plenty of friends and a hobby she could obsess over without raising too many eyebrows, just _really_ wanted great grandchildren to pass on the family line of expertise.

At the rate her grandson was going, she would be dead and buried and he would _still_ be puttering around with his puppets with a blank face...

It was unacceptable! So, she'd enlisted Sasori's only friend in her greatest quest - to find him a nice girl, preferably with birthing hips and a healthy sense of self-preservation (goodness knew her own son had picked a girl as insanely impulsive as him, and look at where _that_ had landed her grandson...), before the end of the year so that she might at least _dream_ about a happy life with titchy toddlers mixing poisons that _no one_ could find a cure for.

Mixing another batch of poisons (if Tsunade of the Great Bust managed to find a counter for _this_ one, Chiyo would eat her head cover!), Chiyo contemplated her grandson's unemotional disposition sadly.

After the failed attempt at finding affection from puppet lookalikes of his parents, her Sasori had become far too fatalistic and withdrawn for her liking. He was strong and efficient and…okay, not _polite_ , but at least civil when he could be bothered, and yet...

Maybe all he needed was a woman's touch? Preferably near his genitals, but she wasn't too fussed about the details.

She cackled madly, causing her younger brother Ebizō to look up from his own work with barely suppressed apprehension. It was never a good sign when his sister was in a good mood...

The war was in full swing and the Honoured Siblings were working overtime before they were deployed once more. Sasori would be back in time for them to miss him completely, and then he was likely to be sent out again after a couple of days of rest.

This period of the war was different to what it had been before the stalemate—now they could go for a short period of time, sabotage, beat up or, in Sasori's case, massacre the enemy, and then come home for a few days to rest again, like as if they were going on missions and coming back.

Chiyo contemplated that. All-out warfare had never been her style (poisoning the water supply of those tree huggers, though, was) and she was glad that everyone got a break, but the need for messengers had definitely increased.

Komushi was one of them.

She worried about that excitable boy, really she did.

But if there was anything that boy was good for, it was for knowing Sasori better than anyone else. He would find the perfect girl for him, of _that_ Chiyo had no doubt.

She was just worried that that kind of girl didn't really exist…

* * *

Almost simultaneously, miles apart, Yori and Sasori sneezed, both twitching in mild annoyance, before one went back to making dinner and the other continued making minced meat of his enemies.

* * *

 _By the way, did you know that, barring Yori, mama and papa, every other character I've mentioned is canon? Well, and Ganji, but he doesn't really count. Thoughts?_


	4. Woes of Having Indecently Happy Friends

_When I first saw you, I fell in love. Well, not **love** love, but you smelled nice."_

* * *

Fortunately for Yori, Komushi, with his grey eyes and wooden arm, was nowhere in sight the next day, nor the day after that. She, even though she had sworn off human interaction for her entire lifetime, couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed.

She was sweeping the floor as she realised that she had _wanted_ Komushi to invade her personal bubble and force her out of her comfort zone.

She froze, eyes wide, blinking at the broom handle in abject horror.

 _Great going Yori! One day and already you're attached…this is what happened_ last _time, and it got you_ _ **killed**_ _!_ She sighed despondently, and then went back to sweeping.

It truly wasn't fair.

And by _it_ , she meant life.

And by _life_ , she meant her heart.

And by _heart_ , she meant her stupidity.

Nae toddled into the room they were cleaning with a look of amusement on her face and a pile of laundry that needed folding in her arms. Yori felt a sense of foreboding, and it wasn't just because Nae couldn't fold to save her life and Yori would inevitably have to do her young(er) partners' share of work.

"Guess who volunteered to help with Rasa-sama's room?" Nae sang with an evil lilt to her voice, although that might just have been Yori, who could practically _see_ Satan, stirring his hell-broth with Nae's expression, looming in front of her.

Her baby blue eyes widened. "No…please not…"

A woman with brightly painted nails and glossy lipstick stepped into the room, her wavy mahogany hair cut in a fashionable bob and bright eyes lidded in sensuality. She locked eyes with Yori and, inside her, Rose was banging the metaphorical gong and screaming war cries.

Her full lips twisted into a smirk. "Ah, my big-breasted sister! It has been far too long!" she exclaimed, running over and hugging Yori, smooshing the girl's face into her voluptuous…assets.

Yori let out a muffled sigh. Shingi (ironically meaning fidelity) was her senpai, so to speak, in the Kazekage household, being seven years older than Yori. Rose had never been friends with anyone as good-looking and popular as Shingi, and even if she had been, there was no one quite as colourful a character as Shingi of the Bouncy Bust.

She was one of those people that enjoyed sex more than was healthy, although that was just inexperienced Yori's opinion. Shingi had decided, quite out of the blue when Yori was but five years old and might as well have been mute with how many words she knew, that Yori was someone actually worth her attention.

No, Yori still hasn't figured out what, although the snark in her is firmly of the opinion that it doesn't matter whatsoever. Shingi would invariably be the death of her.

"We saw each other three weeks ago…" Yori muttered, knowing perfectly well that Shingi didn't count this morning where they had made brief eye-contact, when _someone_ —not naming any names but it was so _totally_ Nae—let all the captive scorpions out of their cages and the female population of the Kazekage household abandoned all semblance of decorum and squealed their way to the main living room.

Many a valiant mousetraps were lost, many a husband wounded, many a Shin's not significantly stung…No, Yori didn't appreciate her Papa's "courageous" efforts of hiding behind her and making shooing noises at the oncoming stinging minion of Beelzebub.

"Three weeks too long away from you, my Yori-tan!" she whined in a sultry manner. Yori's left eye twitched, before she tried to weakly detach herself from the forced hug.

Why Shingi continued calling her name with that childish honorific was beyond Yori, but she had firmly decided she just _didn't_ need to know.

"You're going to help us with Rasa-sama's room?" Yori asked pointedly, trying very hard to loosen the manicured pincer-grip Shingi had on her head. It sucked being short.

"Anything for my big-breasted sister!" she cooed, stroking Yori's ponytail 'soothingly'.

Yori gave up the struggle with a sigh. It just wasn't worth it.

"C..c-an..t—bre…ee..the…"

Shingi blinked in confusion before her bright eyes widened in comical horror. "Yori-tan? Yori-tan!? Wake up!"

She began swinging Yori back and forth in her arms as though she were a ragdoll. Nae could barely suppress her laughter.

Yori showed great sneakiness as she used Shingi's looser grip to slither out of her embrace. Shingi realised a few seconds later that she was shaking air. When she looked up, Yori and Nae had already left the room, the pile of unfolded laundry left on the bed with a note saying, "Please fold these Shingi-san. Thanks for offering!"

Shingi looked around in confusion.

"Wait…I'm expected to do actual work?"

Her question was left unanswered.

* * *

"Nae-chan, that was really rude." Yori chided weakly.

The eight year old grinned cattily. "Nee-chan, you hate folding clothes as much as I do."

"Shirking responsibility isn't very nice." Yori retorted with considerably less heat than any other person would put into a retort.

Nae snorted with all the derision a prepubescent girl could muster. "It's called delegating Nee-chan."

Yori gave up, as per usual.

* * *

It was yet another bright and early start to the day, and Yori hated every minute of it.

For starters, Papa Shin was a moron.

For seconds, Nae was using her age to manipulate innocent old men into feeding her greedy pockets.

For thirds, Yori didn't have any tomatoes.

For fourths, as she left her room with her sandals unfastened to cook breakfast, Komushi-san was waiting for her.

No, honestly, just casually slouching on her table, talking to Papa Shin a mile a minute, who looked so dead on his feet that he must have been drinking heavily the night before. (Yori didn't know why, nor could she honestly bring herself to care for reason number seven hundred and twelve, and no, she wasn't counting. She genuinely just divined a number out of thin air.)

Yori squeaked, and the predator caught the sound instantly. He turned his head to the corridor and saw her short form, her mousy brown hair in their usual high ponytail and her baby blue eyes already watery from sleep, fear and the sun shining unforgivably in her eyes.

Komushi's one track mind started taking measurements for the wedding garments.

He waved cheerfully, completely ignoring her scaredy-cat-ness in favour of focussing on the slight easing of tension in her stance, correctly guessing that she had been worried that she'd been forgotten.

This also allowed him to forgive her for not showing up yesterday—it was entirely his fault that he hadn't specified a location or a time, as Sasori-kun had impatiently pointed out to him in the midst of reinstalling a doohicky in his thingamawhatsits.

Yes, Komushi helped with the puppets, but that hardly meant he understood any of it.

"Good morning Yori-chan! Let's have breakfast together today!"

Yori tried to stutter out _anything_ , but all that came out was a soft whimper. Komushi took that as an enthusiastic agreement.

"Great! Let's go!" he said, and before Yori could blink, Komushi had gotten up from his seat, walked over to her, grabbed her hand, and started dragging her to the door cheerfully.

Thusly, he faced obstacle number one: Nae.

Her arms were crossed over her undeveloped chest, her small mouth was set into a frown, and her foot was tapping the ground impatiently.

"Where do you think you're taking Nee-chan? She has work to do! And breakfast to make!"

 _You tell her Nae-chan!_ thought Yori triumphantly. Of course, that was until Nae said, "You can have her for lunch at two! Not before then shinobi-san!"

Komushi accepted the terms and left after waving at Papa Shin, who was already dead to the world, with drool leaking out of his mouth. Komushi seemed to edit that out of his reality though, and continued on as normal.

 _Because he's an idiot._

"See you for lunch at _Milky Monkey Munch_ Yori-chan!"

Yori was about ready to quit with this day, and it had only been two minutes.

 _Kill me now…_

* * *

Yori arrived at the _Milky Monkey Munch_ with five minutes to spare. She didn't want to give them any more reason to kill her after all, and Sasori was definitely the impatient type, judging by the few sentences he'd spoken in her presence. Because _of course_ Sasori was coming.

 _Who came up with Milky Monkey Munch and Gassy Goose anyway? Did they pay someone to do it? Were they high?_ Yori thought hysterically, trying to distract herself from her impending doom.

It wasn't working.

"Yori-chan!" called out Komushi's voice, and Yori was ready to strangle him. His voice was giving her PTSD, and it had only been a few days!

Straightening out her plain brown attire, complete with a plain brown head covering to protect her brain from the sun (although the usefulness of this stupid endeavour was debatable, considering she wasn't sure how much of a brain she possessed), Yori breathed a deep breath and turned to face her…whatever Komushi was to her.

Wallet? Taste bud Tantaliser? Grim Reaper? The Easter Bunny?

All musings were completely knocked out of her head (although the Easter Bunny theory was something I think we'd all like to see developed further) at the latest sighting of Akasuna no Sasori.

Yup, she was going to die.

She hadn't even said anything and he looked ready to kill the next person that so much as _breathed_ too loudly.

Yori didn't stand a chance.

 _I guess I'm going to see Mama Haruka sooner than I thought…_

"Good afternoon Yori-chan! I told you to wear somethin' pretty but yer wearing the same as usual! I'm disappointed!" Komushi went through six facial expressions before he settled into a cheerful sulk.

No, Yori didn't know how that worked either.

Sasori didn't even so much as glance at her.

He looked at Komushi in mild irritation. "You told me I wouldn't regret this." He paused. "I'm regretting it."

Komushi came out of his odd mood so quickly that Yori decided then and there that he wasn't really a human; he was just really good at pretending.

"No, wait! We haven' even really begun! At least stay till the main course is over!" he cried, a hairsbreadth away from latching onto Sasori's arm.

"The appetiser." said Sasori, and Yori would later learn that this was a _compromise_.

Komushi nodded with a pout before grabbing Yori's hand and leading (read: dragging) her into a spacious room decorated with picture frames of cows and monkeys.

Completely independent of each other, both Yori and Sasori took one look at the décor and glared at Komushi's back, simultaneously thinking, _why do I even associate myself with this idiot?_

"Let's go! Our table's that way!" he said cheerfully, the two others reluctantly following him to table number 5.

The table was large enough for six people, so obviously Komushi decided to seat Yori and Sasori directly across from each other while seating himself two chairs apart.

Every time she fidgeted, her leg brushed against Sasori's ( _Did the tables have to be so narrow?! Neither of us are very tall, and even then our legs—he's going to_ kill _me—)_ , every time she glanced up, her scared blue eyes met his disinterested brown-grey, every time she looked away, he seemed to not care one way or the other.

The seconds ticked by, and then a waiter came up to them. He handed them the menu, and Yori had to give him props for only eyeing the seating arrangement weirdly and not asking questions.

* * *

Sasori flicked through the menu before letting his eyes wander in boredom—he never bothered with such fancy places, but Komushi was a dunce and it couldn't be helped.

Also, this entire thing reeked of Chiyo-baa-san's meddling, but Sasori was certain that pointing out that he knew would make no difference, so he silently let Komushi think his 'subtle' manipulation was working.

As it stood, he just didn't care.

His eyes wandered to the child sitting in front of him. Because yes, she was a child, no matter how much Komushi assured him she was the same age as Sasori.

Her eyes were baby blue and innocent, her mouth was small and her cheeks were chubby, and her sense of fashion was decidedly not aesthetically pleasing.

In short, not worth wasting breath over to have a conversation with.

Sasori passively noted that she looked baffled by the menu in front of her, and he idly wondered whether it was the prices that had her flabbergasted, or the absence of anything sensibly named on the list of delicacies.

Then he just decided that he didn't really care either way.

His half-lidded eyes lazily moved to Komushi and Sasori was mildly amused at his only friend's attempts at covertly spying on their reactions.

Sasori's eyes drifted back to the girl as she shifted the position of her hand on the menu, and his eyes stayed stuck there.

Her hands were really delicate looking, but even at her age, they were dry and cracked—washerwoman hands. Overexposure to harsh chemicals used for cleaning.

His eyes now catalogued the rest of her features, and noted that there were faint crowfeet near her eyes and imperceptible wrinkles on her forehead; her high cheekbones were also noted with the same concentration, along with her long eyelashes and small nose; the swell of her breasts and the curve of her waist were also noted, perhaps with a touch more indulgence than the rest of the features.

Sasori, against his better judgement, began to _see_ Yori.

Kami-sama save the poor girl.

If only she'd invested in that moisturiser sooner, instead of for seeds to grow her own cocoa beans…

But she missed chocolate…

* * *

 _Interesting so far? Or are you ready to call it quits? Review and let me know please! Is the funny too forced? Is Sasori in character?_


	5. Woes of Being Unsubtly Stalked

_Stalking is when two people go on a long romantic walk but only one of them knows about it._

* * *

Komushi looked quite pleased with himself as he saw interest light up in Sasori's eyes. He had yet to identify the look of predatory evaluation for what it was, but that was perfectly alright—he wouldn't have been able to do anything about it even if he tried.

You couldn't tell from how she looked, thought Komushi, but Yori-chan was actually pretty brave for being so nonchalant about the whole situation.

Little did he know that Yori had actually been distracting herself with murder fantasies, and how best to cook Komushi's brains when she harvested his organs. It's a good thing Komushi didn't know that, or he would have been frightened at how feasible her plans were.

Or he might have approved. Who knows really with that guy? He _was_ Sasori's closest friend after all, and so he just _had_ to be messed up.

The food arrived after half an hour of ordering it (Sasori must have had something to do with the uncharacteristically speedy service, but you didn't hear that from the terrified catering staff, oh no.) and the three people who had absolutely nothing in common began digging into what the menu had called ' _Mustard Mushmush Magic Spicy Roaster Salad Cream Sauce-filled Turkey'_.

Yori preferred to think of it as, perhaps its more accurate and descriptive moniker, _'Unidentifiable Platter Number Thirty Six, with a side helping of Kill Me Now Because That Looks Distinctly Poisonous, for a Gravy That's Supposed to "Taste Like Heaven".'_

 _Maybe it's supposed to transport you to heaven instead, by killing you._ thought Yori with a frown, lifting a forkful from the plate and sniffing it nervously.

Nope. Still unidentifiable.

She was just about to declare that she couldn't eat the bizarre food Komushi had picked out (and by declare she means stutter and stammer out before eating it anyway and crying herself to sleep at night because _she just_ _ **knew**_ _interacting with shinobi would be the death of her_ —) when Sasori took a spoon and, with a dignity previously unseen and unheard of, ate half the beach ball sized serving in one bite.

Yori gaped at him, her small mouth forming a tiny 'O' and her eyes widening to a dramatic extent.

Sasori chewed thoughtfully before swallowing, and then got up abruptly.

He reached into his kunai holster and took out a—Yori choked back a hysterical laugh—red chibi scorpion change purse and unceremoniously dumped the required sum of money onto the table, before saying, "The food was nice."

He then walked away with a cheerful Komushi waving away at his back, screaming for every other customer to hear, "See ya Sasori-kun! I hope you liked your date!"

Yori blushed so brightly that she was sure she would have blended in with the lobster eyeing her from the table next to theirs perfectly.

 _Can I go home now?_

Komushi then got up and sidled into the chair Sasori had previously occupied and gave Yori a cheery grin. "Looks like it's just you and me Yori-chan! Don' worry! Sasori-kun looked interested!"

Yori gave him a tight smile, and a glare that looked about as threatening as a baby bunny, before looking at the food Sasori had declared " _nice_ ".

What could it hurt, right?

She tentatively, with her eyes closed, brought the fork to her mouth, the yellow-green-red-orange mush with white meat pieces inching closer and closer into her mouth.

Unfortunately, hand-eye coordination was something she never learned, and was in terrible need of brushing up on, because she jabbed herself with the delicacy in the chin, and the piping hot mush splattered all across her only pretty clothing (and by pretty she means, not having been worn to work this week).

Yori glared at the fork as Komushi laughed at her unabashedly.

 _Kill me now._

* * *

Yori hung her wet towel to dry on the balcony railing before making her way to the kitchen.

Taking a bath was a luxury during the war, even though she lived in the Kazekage's household and therefore had nearly first priority on such things.

The Iwa shinobi had attacked their waterlines, or so Yori had heard from Nae, and since Nae was the biggest gossip in Wind Country, Yori wasn't going to pretend that she had more information. Yori wondered when the war would be over.

Then she wondered pessimistically if that would actually make a difference.

Yori searched through one of the lower cabinets for a wok, but she couldn't seem to figure out where she'd last kept it. Using her eyes was a very new concept, even after fourteen years of having such things as vision and actual depth perception, so she navigated her way around the kitchen based on memory.

…moron.

She went deeper into the cabinet, her head disappearing into the dark depths, scrounging around for the wok's handle.

After a few moments of searching, her hand latched onto the right handle, and she grinned in triumph. Small moments of victory must be celebrated enthusiastically.

As she was carefully retracting her head from inside the cabinet, a knock suddenly came from the door, and she slammed her head against the roof of the cabinet painfully.

Her eyes watering and her nose scrunched up in pain, Yori went towards the door, a wok still clutched in her weathered hands.

She then paused and tensed just as she was about to open said door.

 _Who'd be knocking on my door at this late hour?_ she thought worriedly, her thoughts going all the way from rabid baby carrots to cyborg spiders.

Shaking away the idiotic thoughts (technology in this world hadn't progressed far enough to create cyborgs anyway, let alone of the spider variety), her hands trembling, she slowly cracked the door open and glanced outside.

And then promptly slammed it in Sasori's face.

Her heart was beating a mile a minute, the fear was choking her, her damp mousy brown hair stuck to her face, and she looked like she'd just survived an impromptu drowning.

 _I'm…what's he doing here? I'm going to die! Komushi-san, if I get my_ hands _on your sorry excuse of a miserable cowherding milkman—_

A thing one should note about Yori is that when she's angry, even her thoughts don't make sense.

Another knock on the door, this time a lot more impatiently.

Yori's eyes widened comically, and the tears in her eyes from the bump on her head now became tears of utter fear.

 _This is it. I'm going to die. If he wasn't going to kill me before, he's_ _ **definitely**_ _going to kill me now! I just slammed a door in Akasuna no Sasori's face!_

"Female, open this door." Sasori's monotone voice called from behind the door, with a tinge of impatience underlining his words.

Yori gulped before quickly opening the door—Sasori, from the bare minimum she knew about him, **hated** being made to wait.

There he stood in her doorway, and there she cowered away from him, damp hair framing her child-like face and worried wide blue eyes, one hand on the door knob and the other tightly clutching the wok handle unconsciously.

He eyed her, a dead stare that made Yori unaccountably flustered for some bizarre reason.

A few minutes passed of this—him staring at her, studying her like one would a painting, and her slowly but surely flushing under the scrutiny.

He then, without acknowledging her as a human being, turned around and left, just as suddenly as he'd arrived.

Yori stood in her doorway for a good five minutes, wondering if that entire encounter had been a dream.

Because surreal didn't even _begin_ to describe how she was feeling.

 _Akasuna no Sasori_ , Yori mused with a cute frown, _is a very odd person._

* * *

A few days after her bizarre encounter with the infamous puppeteer, Yori had come to the startling realisation that Sasori was…stalking her.

Well, perhaps stalking was the wrong word, she mused. Because stalking would imply that he actually wanted to know more about her than naturally possible, and she was fairly certain he didn't know her name.

He referred to her as 'female', and that was about all.

But, as she went about her daily tasks, she began to notice that Sasori cropped up fairly frequently, but never once approached to talk to her.

He stared at her when she was grocery shopping (the contents of said shopping were still as shoddy as ever), he popped up when Ikanago-san stopped her in the middle of the street (with a bunch of red flowers that she was fairly certain he couldn't afford) just to watch her…he'd even appeared in Rasa-sama's window once while she was dusting!

And all he did was stare for a few minutes and then leave.

 _No, not stare…study_.

Yori looked around at Rasa-sama's spotless room and realised she'd been thinking about Sasori's mad behaviour for the better part of five hours, and she still hadn't figured out what was going on in that head of his.

She looked up to the ceiling, and folded her hands together in a pseudo-prayer.

 _Why me?_

* * *

"Rasa-sama's getting married!" exclaimed a far too excited Nae as she bound into the corridor Yori was mopping.

"Don't slip Nae-chan!" squeaked Yori, worried that the spastic eight year old would trip and crack her head open, and then all the blood would splatter across the corridor, and then she'd have to mop it up _again_.

Yes, her priorities were straight.

And by priorities, she meant her life.

And by her life, she meant her feeble existence.

And by feeble existence, she meant that she was having a mid-life crisis at fourteen.

And by that, she meant that she was already supposedly twenty seven and she _still_ didn't know how to function like a normal human being.

"I won't Nee-chan, but did you hear me? Rasa-sama's getting married!" Nae exclaimed once more.

Yori smiled at this news, pleasant as it was. Rasa-sama was a really gruff man with rust red hair and a permanent condescending scowl, but his heart was in the right place.

Or so Yori thought at any rate. But since he's the Yondaime Kazekage, we know better.

"That's wonderful news!" she chirped, her light voice filled with happiness for her…master? Employer? The person whose room she cleaned?

She was technically his personal maid, what with Nae being too young and the other person assigned to him, Michiko (whose name meant 'beautiful wise child', and who was neither beautiful nor wise), being far too incompetent to really count.

Nae then got the gossip look in her eyes, and Yori's smile dimmed, because of course there was a nasty reason behind their marriage that an eight year old was apparently old enough to know.

She whispered excitedly, "Apparently, it's to the Kaze no Oni herself, Karura-han! And rumour is that she's as pregnant as a blue whale!"

Yori froze.

Rose had never been an anime enthusiast like her stepsister, what with the fact that she was blind and everything. But being blind didn't stop her stepsister from eating her ear off with what she'd then thought to be useless facts.

When Rose had become Yori, and Yori had realised this world was supposed to be fiction and she was in Sunagakure no Sato, she'd focussed so completely on what her stepsister had told her about Suna and its people that she remembered obscure names with great clarity.

Things like Naruto liking ramen, Sasuke liking revenge, Sakura having pink hair, Kakashi being a prodigy, Itachi being innocent and Jiraiya being a pervert were all lost, having faded too much to still be remembered.

The Akatsuki—well, a bit about it anyway—had stayed with her, and the awed fear in her stepsister's voice when she talked about Gai and Lee remained very vivid, but a lot of the plot was in total darkness.

But then, Suna and its canonical people were, as previously mentioned, engraved in her head.

 _Karura as in Gaara's mother Karura?! Ajerblurghafudgelumpadoodeetralalalalala—_

Her mind thus turned to mush, Yori became catatonic.

Nae just blinked at her Nee-chan before prising the mop out of her paralysed fingers and continuing the mopping, waiting until she came out of her funk to give her the rest of the details, like how Karura had been pregnant for roughly two months and already she was showing, which meant that it was going to be a big baby (and Nae's mother had always said that a bigger belly meant that it was going to be a girl), that the wedding was probably happening so the child wasn't illegitimate, that no one knew how it happened because Karura the Kaze no Oni (Wind Demon) and Rasa-sama absolutely did not get along, that some speculated it was a one night stand gone horribly wrong, or that the pressure of war had 'gotten to the younguns', and that some thought Karura-han had coerced Rasa-sama into marrying him for his position as next in line for the Kazekage seat.

Nae was calm about Yori's catatonia with good reason.

After all, it happened every other day or so.

* * *

Sasori was carving something that was distinctly _not_ a puppet, of that Chiyo was sure.

This was also the first time since he'd finished making his parent's puppets that he looked so peacefully engrossed in something.

Chiyo patted herself on the back.

Putting Komushi on the job had been an inspired choice. She couldn't wait to meet the girl that had given her Sasori his passion back.

* * *

Sasori was so focussed on his work that he didn't notice that he'd been smiling slightly for the last half hour.

But when he shifted his position slightly, he realised that he'd been doing so and immediately put an end to it.

But he was…happy wasn't the right word at all.

Maybe content?

No, too positive. Hmmm…

Well, it didn't really matter. What mattered was that this project was the most fun he'd had in years, and to think, the subject of his latest creation had so many different facets to her!

Sasori had a brilliant eyes for detail, and he'd been so certain that he'd studied the Female Komushi had set him up with well enough to create an exact replica of her, but the minute he'd started drawing up the plans for his project, he'd drawn a blank.

Oh, he remembered the whole, of that he was fairly certain, and the general shape.

But it was the details he was interested in, and he just didn't have enough.

He'd toyed with the idea of getting her to strip so he could properly study her, but he'd discarded it immediately—Female had been wearing three layers in the desert heat. He doubted he could persuade her to take off _one_ , even if he'd had the patience for it.

So, every time he needed to clarify a feature, he went out in search of her, and found her doing ridiculously mundane things with equally as ridiculous mundane people.

And yet…

Sasori unconsciously smiled again, and this time, he had absolutely no idea why.

* * *

 _Thoughts? Come on people! Is the development unrealistic? Is the information too abrupt? Is this a feasible thought pattern for Sasori to have? When I say he smiled, I mean like a little twitch of his lips in the upward direction, a light smirk if you will, just more naturally happy…if something like that is possible with Akasuna no Sasori…Temari incoming! And about the date...what do you think? I mean, can you imagine Sasori sitting there for the appropriate amount of time when he finds something that sparks his creativity, simply because of societal convention? Nah!_


	6. Woes of Contemplating Patricide

_'Some people are alive only because murder is illegal.'_

* * *

Yori was contemplating murder.

Papa Shin had decided to go shopping for his daughter because her clothing "wasn't feminine enough". Not only had he thrown out all her clothes and replaced them with violent shades of glitzy pink, neon greens, bold reds and deep purples, he'd also wasted _all_ of the money she'd earned.

For the last _two months._

 _How am I ever going to buy those tomatoes now?!_ she thought hysterically as Papa Shin grovelled at her feet.

"Papa is sorry Yori-chan! It's just that you're never going to get a husband if your clothes aren't revealing enough! And Papa just wants the best for his free meal ticket! Papa meant daughter! And papa's taste in clothing is pretty good isn't it? Papa's really good at clothes shopping, ne? Especially that lacy red dress, ne? YORI-CHAN, YOUR PAPA IS A GENIUS! But Papa is sorry for spending all the money on clothes…papa realises he should have spent more money on alcohol, but papa only bought three bottles to tide him over…oh well, Yori-chan will make more money, ne?"

Her eye visibly twitched in annoyance, and she was about ready to _kill_ this man that even dared to pretend that what he'd done was in any way shape or form acceptable.

Yori had the patience of a saint, truly she did. But she was reaching her maximum limit of dealing with stupidity, what with Komushi-san knocking on her door bearing wedding gifts every other day, some old lady that she was very certain was Sasori-san's grandmother whipping out a tape measure as she was helping Nae-chan carry the laundry from _literally_ _thin air_ and taking her measurements without permission and tsking at her breast size, and Shingi had, yet again, tried to sell her off to one of her illicit 'clients' without the proper paperwork.

Then she had _Yori_ fill out the paperwork to sell _herself_ to some geriatric _paedophile_.

In fact, Yori would go so far as to say the Sasori-stalking was downright _relaxing_ in comparison.

She was just about to let Papa Shin have a piece of her mind, really she was, but just as she opened her mouth to let him have it, _Rasa-sama_ knocked on the ajar doorway.

"Am I interrupting?" he asked with an upturned eyebrow and an arrogant scowl on his face.

 _The casting in my life drama is shit._ thought Yori bitterly.

"Rasa-sama!" she exclaimed, wanting to hit her papa over the head for creating such a bizarre scene in front of, what essentially boiled down to, her boss.

"C-can I help…you…sir?" she asked, sounding far less sure of herself than was entirely appropriate. He would now think of her as incompetent _and_ a bully to her elders. _Thank you Papa!_ Yori thought hysterically.

He looked down at her, sneering at the state of her living space in disdain.

She blushed bright red, now wanting to mutilate her papa before stringing him from the water tower and decorating his body with bits of his forebrain, which she would chop into little pieces after doing a lobotomy. And no, she didn't know how to do one, but she also figured that it didn't _fucking_ matter.

Papa's grovelling had started before she could start on cleaning up after returning from work, and papa was already three sheets to the wind by that point, giggling happily as he went to his bedroom to fetch the clothes he'd bought her.

Of course, he'd left a trail of sexy lingerie _that_ _was highly inappropriate for a father to buy his_ _ **daughter**_ all the way from his bedroom to the living room. He'd also chosen that particular day to cook a meal for her, so the kitchen was a _disaster_.

Then, of course, he'd tried to wash the dishes, and had only managed splash water all the way to the front door. The dishes were still as dirty as they'd been when he'd started.

It was in this state of disarray that her _boss_ had decided to grace his presence on his longest serving maid's humble abode.

 _Kill me now._

"Yes…" he said, eyeing her vestibule with disdain. "Yori, was it? You were _recommended_." For some bizarre strange reason went without saying.

"F-for what…sir?" she gulped.

He inhaled bracingly before saying, "I need someone to organise the wedding. Your mother was…the go to person, as it were, for these sorts of things. I've been assured you will be just as…skilled."

He looked utterly unconvinced, and Yori looked about as close to hyperventilating as someone could get without _actually_ hyperventilating.

Mama Haruka had been very high up the household rank, but Yori was—how do you put this politely?—about as useless at these sorts of things as a polar bear in the Sahara Desert.

She was just about to tell him so, but perhaps not using that analogy, however her definitely-going-to-be-choked-in-his-sleep Papa Shin decided to speak for her.

It must be pointed out that Yori probably wouldn't have said _anything_ , what with how much of a chicken she was when it came to human interaction.

"Oh, my Yori-chan is even _better_ than her mama! She'll definitely make Rasa-sama's wedding one to remember!" he beamed with a drunk grin.

Rasa-sama threw him a look of great disgust, but then sighed plaintively and muttered, "I hope you're right. Karura's going to kill me with a blunted spoon if this doesn't turn out _perfect_ …"

"Right, girl!" he barked at her, making her jump like a startled kitten.

"Y-yes sir?" she stammered out.

"You _will_ make this wedding a success. Or you die." he said it so menacingly, Papa Shin wet his trousers.

…although it might have been the drink, come to that…

With that pronouncement, Rasa-sama turned with a flamboyance hitherto unseen and marched away imperiously.

Yori's eye twitched again as she gave her Papa a sharp glance. However, due to the fact that Yori was as intimidating as a baby panda, it didn't have the desired effect.

Especially because her eyes were watery with fear and her pouty lips were trembling in a most unintimidating fashion.

"Papa…"

He beamed and hiccupped in her direction. "Aren't I brilliant Yori-chan? Now you'll get even _more_ money for Papa's saké! Papa is so smart!"

He giggled happily and then promptly fell into an alcohol induced coma.

Yori walked to a wall and smashed her head against it repeatedly.

 _Fuck my life._

* * *

 _Fuck my life._ thought Sasori as he saw his grandmother resorting his tools without his explicit permission.

He couldn't kill her for touching his things, he couldn't yell at her for touching his things, and he certainly couldn't stop her without causing some sort of bodily harm.

But Sasori _really_ wanted her to stop messing his things up, because if he was the epitome of organised, his grandmother was about as organised as an ant on Old McDonald's farm.

In short, her organisation made no sense, even to her.

"Chiyo-baa-san." He intoned with an undercurrent of impatience.

His grandmother froze in the process of disassembling his interlocking wood tower (it had taken more than a collective five hundred and twenty one hours to get it to stay like that) before turning around with a mad cackle.

"Sasori-chan. I thought you'd left for your mission already." she said, without a hint of remorse.

Sasori internally sighed. His face blank, he dispassionately stated, "I had to collect my latest puppet."

Chiyo blinked at him in surprise. "You mean _this_ is a puppet?"

She was pointing at the least intimidating puppet created in shinobi history; a perfect replica of Female, conflicted blue eyes, pouty lips, voluptuous curves, weathered hands and all.

"It doesn't even have _weapons_! I checked! I thought it was a _pet project_!" Chiyo exclaimed, not hiding her surprise whatsoever.

It was true, Sasori mused. The Female puppet wasn't actually all that useful in combat.

But that was the whole point.

None of his puppets were humanoid enough to pass for unthreatening infiltrators, but when he'd first analysed Female, he'd known instantly that she'd pass as non-malevolent in a heartbeat, no matter _where_ he used her.

It was a stroke of genius really, and adding weapon compartments would have ruined the ruffled, scantily-clad effect of the puppet's vulnerability.

"I'm almost late Chiyo-baa-san. I have to go. Now. Bye."

It was hard pretending to be emotional when his emotions only had two settings: apathetic and impatient.

If Chiyo had heard this thought, she would have sweatdropped and told him that he sounded more robotic than an actual robot.

Sasori carefully sealed his latest puppet and left his puppetry studio.

"Oh, and Chiyo-baa-san." he said without turning around, even as Chiyo reached out for his tower.

"Please don't touch my things."

Chiyo frowned in what she thought was a cute manner. Sasori inwardly shuddered—Female was very good at cute, and Chiyo-baa-san was decidedly _not_.

"If my grandson _really_ wants to push his poor, fragile, ailing grandmother out of his life completely, who am I to stop him, hmmmmmmmmmm?"

Sasori left her without a response.

Chiyo pretended to be hurt by this for another few moments before going and touching the wooden tower anyway.

Lightning chakra fizzled and thrummed to her nerve-endings, sizzling her insides in a distinctly unpleasant sensation.

Chiyo cackled in a most evil fashion. "So my grandson _does_ care!"

The logic she employed was that if Sasori hadn't cared about her, he wouldn't have warned her not to touch the 'shocking' tower.

…her logic is legendary. For the completely wrong reasons.

* * *

 _Review please? It motivates me to write faster...please? So what do you think about Sasori's reasoning_ this _time? I know some people had issues with him 'liking' Yori, but I hope this reveals his true motive for stalking her and creating a 'work of art' based on her. He wanted a weapon that would slip under the radar so he could get...well, you'll see next chapter, I'm sure. :)_


	7. Woes of Having an OverlyExtroverted Boss

_Don't argue with your boss. Hear, understand, and ignore._

* * *

Yori had such high stress levels that no amount of blood pressure tablets would be able to calm her down.

The last seven days had been filled with nightmare-fuelled tripping, uncoordinated sweeping, stressing out about details as inconsequential as picking the correct kabsa recipe (there was _one_ kabsa recipe in the entirety of Sunagakure no Sato), and her life flashing before her eyes.

No, honestly, every time Rasa-sama came to check on her work, her heart had this unbearable clenching session and her voice squeaked so high that even dogs wouldn't be able to hear it, and no amount of Nae-chan's pep talks actually helped. In fact, with Nae-chan cooking up conspiracy theories of the 'Yori is Rasa-sama's mistress' variety—even the _notion_ of adultery frightened her, let alone the fact that Rasa-sama's wife was rumoured to be an _actual demon_ —Yori would hazard a guess and say that Nae-chan was about as useful as a degree in juggling.

And Shingi had been the metaphorical lion at the prom party—absolutely unnecessary.

But yes, for the past week, Yori and Shingi and Nae had been working overtime to plan Rasa-sama's wedding. And by 'Yori and Shingi and Nae had been working overtime', what we really mean is that 'Yori was stressing even in her sleep, Nae was being, as mentioned before, as useful as a degree in juggling, and Shingi was too busy snogging her own reflection and being incompetent to actually have an effect in the grand scheme of things, whether she worked overtime or not'.

So yes, being the only person on the three-woman team that had, not only even the remotest idea of what a wedding should look like, but also the one whose head was on the chopping block, Yori was about ready to call it quits. And Yori, having been _blind_ when she was Rose, really shouldn't have been in charge of colour coordination. She was going to _die_ because of the sheer _stupidity_.

And by stupidity, she didn't mean her own, although there was plenty of _that_ going around too.

They were currently deciding the colour scheme of the table covers and chairs, and it perfectly illustrates this dysfunctional team's dynamics.

"Yori-tan, what do you think?" Shingi drawled, as though crooning to her lover after having lots and lots of raunchy sex. "Pink or cherry?"

Yori tried for as polite as possible, under the circumstances. "Shingi-san, I don't _care_ what colour lipstick you want to wear at the reception—at _all_. Can you _please_ give me the list of cloth suppliers?"

Nae giggled. Shingi pouted before saying, "I think cherry is better, ne Yori-tan?"

Yori, already at her limit after a week of minimal nightmare-fuelled sleep, said cuttingly, "Oh yeah, go for cherry! It really brings out the whore in you!"

Nae gasped and giggled, and Shingi took it as a compliment. "Yori-tan, you're too sweet! Cherry it is! Now, about that soon-to-be husband of yours—"

Yori rubbed her temples. "We've discussed this Shingi-san. Far more than we've discussed _literally everything else._ The day I marry Ikanago-san is the day hell freezes over!"

"So you mean there's a chance!" yelled Ikanago excitedly, his face plastered to the door in the hopes of listening in (and why he thought he would be invisible by sucking in his tummy when the door _was made of glass_ , Yori would never know.)

Yori felt like smacking her head against the wall repeatedly, for the next millennia or so.

Really.

"I think you should go for frog-green and—" began Nae-chan, before Yori cut her off

"What colour palette are you looking at? _Because **Suna** doesn't supply_ _that colour_!" screeched Yori hysterically, her head already spinning.

Nae pouted. "I thought it was a good idea…" she mumbled.

Yori remarked, her inner sass _really_ coming out today. "Maybe you should stop thinking then; your brain can't handle the unusual workout."

Nae pouted again, and it took her a few minutes before she understood. By the time she had, Yori had decided that, you know what, traditional Suna colours of wine red and dusky brown it was—you could never go wrong with wine red and dusky brown.

Right?

 _Well, it doesn't matter_ what _I pick_ , she though only semi-hysterically. _Rasa-sama's due in the next ten minutes to veto anything I've decided on_ anyway _._

And how right she was.

Yori had only just gotten Shingi to give her the list of potential cloth suppliers and finalised the budget for the lighting when the Sandaime Kazekage's protégé wafted into the room, the flamboyance making Yori really reconsider his sexuality. All three of the women abruptly stopped what they were doing and gave him a deep bow.

"How are the preparations going?" sneered Rasa-sama, the _slave_ at the end of his question going without saying. Yori took no offence; she'd learnt that Rasa-sama's resting face _was_ a sneer—he wasn't going out of his way to be rude to her.

"W-well, sir. Would…you like t-to—" she said, trembling slightly. Just because he wasn't being specifically rude didn't mean she wasn't scared stiff of the intimidating ponce.

"Yes. Give it here." he snapped, cutting off Yori's feeble syllables, which, you know, fair enough. Yori would cut herself off too if she had had the ability.

She hurriedly shuffled through the dozens of bits of papers and handed him the budget, the colour scheme, and the nearly-finalised list of entertainers at the reception.

Rasa-sama went over the papers with a scrutinising glare that Yori had long since categorised as his 'concentration face'.

"The colour scheme's a bit dull. Fix it." he snapped quickly, sharply handing the paper he'd been perusing to her.

Yori gulped. "W-what would y-you like instead…sir?"

Rasa-sama glared at her. "That's your job. What am I paying you for?!"

Yori bowed her head again, and Nae trembled next to her. Yori placed a calming hand on the younger girl's shoulder, smiling at her reassuringly. Nae immediately felt better and thought, _Even though Nee-san is the wimpiest person I know, she's very reliable_.

Yori, of course, would never know this about herself, because she was too scared.

Of _what_ is entirely irrelevant.

Rasa-sama looked over the next sheet of paper and muttered, "Maybe frog-green and puce…spice it up with a bit of golden and grey."

Yori's heart was still beating a mile a minute, but her hands were steady as she said, as firmly as her light and tinkling voice would allow, "No."

Rasa-sama snapped his gaze to her, seeing the tiny girl staring at the ground. "Did you say something?"

Yori nodded her head, trying to minimise the amount of timidity it exuded. "Rasa-sama, that's…that's…the _worst_ i-idea for a-a colour scheme I have…have _ever_ heard."

Rasa-sama's cheeks flushed as he registered what he said, his embarrassment causing him to stammer, "Well—well, whatever! Go with that—shut up!"

Yori jumped, startled. She cautiously looked up at her boss' reddening face, and then she smiled at him. He blushed even brighter, biting out, "What?!"

It was like all fear had left Yori, seeing someone else flustered. It always made her feel braver, because she knew how painful it was to be scared—she never wanted anyone else to feel like that.

"It's okay Rasa-sama. It's why you hired us, ne? I'm sure Karura-sama would prefer something more patriotic though, just like you. Bright colours doesn't mean better." she said softly, the smile lighting up her light blue eyes.

Rasa-sama, even without realising, calmed down, his embarrassment leaving him.

"Yes. Right."

After that, he went back to perusing the sheaf of papers she'd given him, muttering now and again as Yori dutifully took notes. Shingi discreetly took out a nail file and started filing her perfectly filed nails, and Nae brought them all some tea.

He'd gotten to the last paper, his eyes running through the lines of large, baby-like handwriting, when he burst out, "Who's this Hotaru guy with 'the big dick'?! Why would I 'love to feel his shaft'!?"

Yori's teeth started chattering, her hands began trembling and her eyes widened inexorably. She slowly turned her head to Shingi, who'd covered her mouth to stop her gleeful grin from showing.

Rasa-sama glared at Yori.

Yori began twiddling her thumbs. _Of course Shingi-san is going to get me killed! This is what I get for not paying attention to her babbling about the_ clients _she keeps trying to set me up with…he's going to kill me…_

"Ummm…"

Shingi gulped down her giggles and said in her typical husky fashion, "It's Yori-tan's boyfriend, Boss. He's…very _open_ about these things."

Rasa-sama, instead of doing the normal thing and firing her on the spot for the inappropriateness of it all, looked at her with barely hidden concern. "Yori-san, you should break up with this…Hotaru. I don't like the sound of him."

Yori's lower lip trembled. He continued, "I mean, you should go out with someone that will make you smile in a way you never knew you could, not someone who even mentioning is going to make you start crying."

Yori nodded in humiliation.

"Now," Rasa-sama continued, quite into this. "I know many eligible men for you. There's Ikanago-san, for one, and he's—"

Yori mentally smashed her head against a wall repeatedly.

Without even knowing it, she'd managed to acquire yet another extroverted weirdo that 'only had her best interests at heart'.

 _It's unfortunate that everything would be ruined if I made her death brutally satisfying._ she hissed mentally, thinking of Shingi and her persistent meddling as she sat in the same position for the next half hour, being given a brief summary of every single eligible acquaintance her boss had. Joy.

* * *

 _It's unfortunate that everything would be ruined if I made his death brutally satisfying._ thought Sasori passively, as he manoeuvred his Female puppet across enemy terrain.

From his vantage point, he could make out a few Iwa-nin alighting onto the soft dirt-packed ground, yelling at Female puppet.

 _Just as I planned_ , he thought, smirking lazily.

He twitched his fingers minutely and the puppet tripped after he'd made its facial 'muscles' twitch. He was quite proud of how life-like this puppet had come out, and it was a balm to his artistic soul that it fooled _everyone_ it came across.

He was _really_ pleased with this puppet.

The Iwa-nin, just as he'd predicted because who _could_ resist that child-like face when it looked scared?, helped her up, and then took her to their outpost.

Here's where it got tricky. He'd managed to convince them that Female puppet was mute and scared (the lack of proper clothing also had a huge part to play, he was sure, in the Iwa-nin letting their guard down), but now that it was _in_ the enemy outpost, he couldn't see their location.

He twitched his fingers to slacken the puppet's posture and close its eyelids, feigning sleep. Of course, he had to keep minutely shifting his pinkie so as to mimic regulated breathing, but now was his time to strike.

The minute he felt his chakra strings stop extending further away from him, indicating that Female puppet had been put down onto presumably a bed, he triggered the scalp compartment (which, because it was covered by hair, was perfectly concealed from a scrutinising watcher) and it opened, releasing transparent knock-out gas of the lethal variety.

His unit waited (im)patiently for the next half hour, before moving into the outpost with gas masks on, where every last one of the Iwa-nin had been affected by the gas and most of them lay dying.

Sasori was quite pleased with his handiwork.

He followed his chakra strings to find that they'd placed his Female look-alike puppet on the softest bedding in the outpost. He smirked—clearly, Female's looks alone could win them the war.

Of course, his puppeteering genius was superior to even professional infiltrators, and Sasori was…immensely satisfied.

Four more outposts to go, and the intricacies would just keep getting more and more intriguingly simple.

Sasori, for the first time since he'd made his parents' puppets, patted himself on the back for a job well done.

* * *

 _Sasori used a foam-like material for the outer covering of the Yori puppet (he calls Yori Female in his head, so that's why it's Female puppet.) so that it would have the natural 'give' that normal human bodies have. He made puppet-Yori_ very _life-like._

 _He's a genius like that. So what did you guys think of this chapter?_


	8. Woes of Acquiring Cushion Thieves

_'I'm allergic to alcohol and narcotics. I break out in handcuffs.'_

* * *

Today was a very auspicious day, not least of all because Yori had woken up to a sober Papa Shin.

Yes, you read that right—Papa Shin was _sober_.

No, not even Yori could believe her eyes.

It had been a run-of-the-mill morning. She'd woken up and had had her obligatory two second freak out ( _Oh my God, I can see—!)_ , then her two second obligatory gratitude session ( _to absolutely anyone that can hear me, thank you so much for letting me be able to_ _ **see**_ _—!)_ , then her five minute panicking at what disasters the day could wrought on her, and then finally got out of bed.

She had had, as delightfully rare as it was with the water rationing, a short, cool shower and donned her pale beige attire (really, the girl had absolutely _no_ fashion sense, and her wardrobe was as dull as sand—and the colour of it too), and then started mentally cataloguing the contents of the kitchen and the amount of reserve toilet paper, tying her mousy brown hair up in its usual high ponytail.

This is where the deviation occurred.

Where previously she would reach the kitchen and either see her father plastered on the table or snoring away a hangover on the sofa, _this_ time, he was humming happily as he set the table.

Yori felt like going back to bed, because this was—Papa Shin had _never_ done this before! Not even when Mama Haruka had been alive and nagging!

She rubbed her eyes, before unfreezing herself and moving closer to the alien that had clearly possessed her Papa.

"Good morning Yori-chan! Papa couldn't find the cups to make any coffee, but Papa has put the kettle on the stove!" he called out cheerfully to his daughter of fourteen years, and Yori could practically _feel_ this day going to shite.

"G-good…morning." she answered in fearful suspicion. Her watery blue eyes had narrowed at the imposter, and she looked distinctly like a betrayed puppy.

Papa Shin cooed at her expression and pinched her cheeks. "Yori-chan! You've gotten cuter! The boys will be flocking here by sunrise!"

This was the first time Yori had seen her father sober.

Now she knew his stupidity had no excuse.

A part of her hopes and expectations just shrivelled up and _died_.

"Papa…it's _past_ sunrise…" she muttered as delicately as possible, hoping she hadn't hurt his sensibilities. Papa Shin was an over-sensitive douche-baggy princess like that.

"Nonsense Yori-chan! If it was already past sunrise, Papa would have to be at work!" he laughed, patting Yori on the head like as though she couldn't tell time.

Yori paled. "Wait, Papa…have you not been going to work all these days?!" she exclaimed in horror.

Papa Shin brushed off her concerns. "Maa, Yori-chan, I'm going to work _today_ , and that's all that matters, ne?"

Yori didn't bother to deign that with a response and just went to the stove, put a water to boil and took out the nearly-rotten vegetables, and tried to stop herself from bursting into tears.

She began chopping to prepare for lunch, her eyes watering even more than usual as she thought about the water bill, and the gas bill, and the Kazekage taxes, and her Papa's booze…

 _Papa doesn't have a job anymore…IS HE A MORON!?_ she thought, desperately trying to turn her despair into anger so that she could get through the day—Rasa-sama said he had a surprise waiting for her.

As she took out an egg for both their breakfasts (rationing was _really_ hard on them, especially because they didn't fit into any of the welfare-receiving groups), she, not for the first time, contemplated homicide.

But she changed her mind.

Something about morals and what not.

She didn't like surprises…and Rasa-sama had proven time and time again that his main goal in life was to exceed _all_ expectations.

Oh joy.

* * *

Sasori had returned to his sandy village at roughly six o'clock in the morning.

His eyes were half-lidded, his blood red hair was mussed up from the wind, and he was in desperate need of a shower—also, clothes shopping, because the various stains on his clothes were _not_ going to come out with a good washing. The scrolls holding his puppets were an added weight that he was ready to shed, right along with every single fuck he'd ever given for _anything_.

But then…

For some bizarre reason, his legs moved away from his squad, moved away from the quickest route to his humble abode, and continued moving towards the Kazekage residence.

Perhaps it was sleep deprivation that caused him to do something so bizarrely unnecessary and out of character.

To this day, he still doesn't know why he did it.

He flipped onto a window sill as silently as a wraith, peaked through the window, and saw Female making breakfast.

She moved with a practised ease in the surprisingly spacious kitchen, and her shoulders were, unlike during previous analysis, hunched in what seemed to be frustration.

Sasori still doesn't know why he did it, because let's face it, do any of us know why we do stupid things we'll regret in the morning?

But he slipped into the house, scoffed impatiently at the lack of any traps to stop him ( _wasn't she the slightest bit concerned that she was a very juicy target for paedophiles?_ ), snuck into the drawing room and began cleaning up.

It was strangely relaxing.

So relaxing in fact, that by the time he'd silently thrown away all the assorted week-old empty bottles, scrunched up tissue papers, scrolls to do with wedding planning and books to do with cooking, he felt ready to fall asleep on the rather unexpectedly comfortable sofa.

Female was busy cooking, and he was fairly certain she wouldn't notice…

He stole one of the cushions from her sofa and snuck out of the house.

He still doesn't know why he did it, but when he got home and went to his own bed, he placed the cushion under his head, and he went instantly to sleep.

The scent of vanilla, baby wipes and rotten tomatoes filtered through the air as he slept.

He'd never felt so comfortable in his room before…and he was sure it had nothing to do with Female's cushion.

Obviously.

* * *

Yori had 20/20 vision, but she frequently forgot to use it.

But her hearing was perhaps better than most _dogs_ , with the way it was naturally enhanced, even without the genin level chakra she had flowing through her body—Papa, for all his incompetence, _had_ made it to Chuunin after all—and so, when Sasori thought he was being sneaky-sneaky, Yori was staring at the back of his head in nothing short of abject horror.

 _W-what is Akasuna no Bloody Sasori doing in my house!?_ she thought with borderline hysteria.

She didn't pause in her cooking, worried that he'd notice if the background noise stopped—God knows she would. But she watched him silently clear away the drawing room, and steal a cushion, and leave through the window without giving her a second glance, and it was only after he'd left that she realised that the feeling of fear and wanting to cry at her Papa's stupidity had vanished completely.

For the first time in a _long_ time, Yori laughed. Because Akasuna no Sasori had just stolen a _cushion_ , and seeing him clean, something so _normal_ , and insane, made him seem human. The mirth puffed out of her like tinkling crystals.

No one heard it, but if they had, they would have stopped and listened as though hearing a long forgotten lullaby.

Because Yori didn't really laugh, just like she didn't really smile, just like she didn't really speak her mind.

But Yori would someday.

Maybe.

Depends on how long she survives the baby carrots' invasion.

* * *

 _Shorter chapter, and I'm sorry for that, but I thought you guys deserved_ something _for your wait…I had exams, so it was a bit difficult updating this month, but the updates will become more frequent soon, I promise!_ _Thoughts on this chapter?_


	9. Woes of Confrontational Alpha Females

_'The more I think, the more confused I get.'_

* * *

Yori was going to pass out.

Not for any conventional reason like overwork (although there was plenty of that going on in her life), or because she'd been hand-standing for too long (she was fairly certain she couldn't manage that anyway), but because Rasa-sama had sprung his surprise.

He'd called her to his office (on the level below the Kazekage's office) and, when she'd made it after nearly being killed by a hoard of hissing snakes ( _someone_ hadn't shut the cages during feeding time _again)_ , he'd been waiting for her with two other people.

They were identical in every way: short blonde hair, green eyes, petite statures, white scarves wound twice around their necks and carefully pleasant faces that made Yori want to hide in her covers and never come out.

"Ah, Yori-san!" said Rasa-sama with something that could pass for a welcoming smile (but was really just a slightly less condescending sneer), "This is my fiancée, Karura. Play nice."

He'd directed the last bit to one of the blondes. This didn't bode well for Yori.

"I-It's nice t-to meet…" she began but was abruptly cut off.

"What do you want?" one of them said with a sickeningly polite smile.

Yori blinked like a deer caught in headlights. "I…what?"

" _Karura-nee…"_ mumbled the one on the left.

The one who was presumably Karura turned a sharp smile at Rasa-sama's scowling face. "Is she stupid?"

"I thought so at first myself," Rasa-sama said. "But then I found out that she's just spineless."

"My kid is going to walk all over her."

"Hey," he said defensively. "I walked all over _my_ nanny and _I_ turned out fine."

"Your definition of _fine_ ," said Karura with a scowl, "is _very_ different from mine."

The blonde to the left hesitantly said, "Karura-nee, perhaps we shouldn't talk about people like as if they're not there…"

Karura whipped a glare at him. "Hush Yasha, mommy and daddy are talking."

"Yes Karura-nee."

Yori gulped, very glad that they were ignoring her completely.

"I don't want that waste of flesh anywhere _near_ my impressionable kid!" yelled Karura.

Rasa-sama stood up, towering a head over her. "Well, seeing as _I'm_ the father, unless you _lied about that too_ —"

"Oh grow up pansy!" said Karura dismissively, baring her teeth at him. "If I'd had an affair, that's just cause _you_ weren't up to snuff."

"So you _did_ have an affair!"

"We could argue about this all day, but does it really matter whether I did or not, in the grand scheme of things?" Karura asked, smiling blithely.

Rasa-sama sputtered. "Yes it _fucking_ matters!"

Karura narrowed her eyes. "So if I said the kid wasn't yours you'd ditch me, hmm?"

Rasa-sama quickly back-tracked. "That's _not_ what I—"

"Well it sure _sounded_ like that's what you—"

"You _always_ blow everything out of proportion—"

"Maybe you'd feel less insecure if you had a bigger dick—"

"You leave my dick out of this!"

"Why? Cause it's a community dick?"

" _I'm_ not the one spreading my legs for anyone with a thruster—"

"Oh, is _that_ the posh word for it? I had no fucking clue—"

"Stop swearing! It's bad for the bloody baby—"

"I'll swear however much I want you fucking—"

"I don't even know why I _tolerate_ you—"

"Maybe it's cause Fumiko _-chan_ that you're looking for, what with her massive tits and cow eyes—"

"For the last time, it's _Kumiko_ and she's my fucking cousin!"

Karura snapped, "Don't swear at the baby you tosser!"

"You swore first!" screamed Rasa-sama, his face going beet red in anger.

"No, _you_ swore first!"

Karura's little brother turned to Yori and said, "I don't know why they're getting married."

Yori quirked her lips upwards. "Because they're the only ones that can tolerate each other."

He gave a startled laugh and stared at her with wide eyes. "I'm Yashamaru. You must be Yori-san?"

He gave her a short bow, which she returned deeply. "Y-yeah."

She didn't know where her gall had come from, to say something like that, but the yelling and screaming…

She remembered that.

Rose remembered that.

Rose had grown strong to deal with that, and suddenly, a tiny bit of Yori's spine came forth.

"A-ano, R-Rasa-sama…" she tried, taking a step forward.

Karura snapped her head at her. "Stay the _fuck_ away from my husband!"

Yori yelped and stuttered, "Y-yes, right away!", backing away as far and as fast as she could, instantly losing whatever spine she may have gained.

Rasa-sama glared at Karura. "She's not even worth a boner you insecure woman."

Karura flipped her hair out of her eyes. "Well, I don't think Fumiko's boner-worthy either, but I saw what I saw."

" _Kumiko_ is my cousin!"

"Didn't stop your parents from fucking each other senseless, did it?"

Rasa-sama smashed his lips against hers and Karura instantly melted into it, yanking his hair and pulling him forward as he wound an arm around her swelling waist, pulling her off the floor and making her moan deep in her throat. Sucking sounds ensued.

Yashamaru looked away and Yori meeped, covering her eyes and blushing furiously.

They came up for air after many an embarrassing-to-listen-to moans and pants, grunts and ' _fuck me Rasa's_.

Yori didn't think there was any blood left to go to her head after that.

"Right, right," said Rasa-sama a few times after parting from Karura, his face flushed and his lips a bruised red. "We were doing something."

"I want to interview the bitch," said Karura, placated for the moment. "If I think she's an unfit nanny for my baby, she's fired."

Wait, what?

"Um, Ka-Karura-sama…wh-fired?" Yori asked, her head spinning and tears building up in her eyes.

Karura looked at her dispassionately. "Better yet, pack your bags now. Save us all the time."

Yori wanted to melt into the floor and never solidify again, but then she remembered that Papa Shin didn't have a job and that Nae-chan didn't really make her own lunch so Yori did it for her.

That shit cost money.

So with a steadying breath, she squeaked, "I-I…interview please?"

Karura scoffed. "Answer three questions. If they're satisfactory, you pass."

Yori didn't even minutely relax—three questions meant that getting even _one_ wrong meant that she got 33% wrong, which was a third more than she could afford.

She nodded with as much determination as her character would allow, lips pouting in concentration and brows delicately furrowed, having the rather unfortunate effect of puffing out her cheeks, making her look like a toddler determinedly using a spoon to eat noodles.

Karura tutted without even asking the first question. Rasa-sama squeezed her hand tightly in warning and she muttered, "Don't know _what_ you see in her…"

"Girl," she began sharply, causing Yori to yelp. "If the kid throws a tantrum cause you didn't give it chocolate, what would you do?"

Yori furrowed her eyebrows in concentration, giving it her all. "H-how old is the baby?"

Karura raised an eyebrow. "Four."

Yori muttered under her breath, "So they're too old to be throwing a temper tantrum…but not too young that it'll make them believe that they'll never get what they want…"

Karura's eyebrow went even higher at the girl's mutterings.

"Um…I would pr-pretend th-that they weren't there," she said finally.

Karura asked promptly, "Why?"

Yori jumped at the abrupt tone, quite certain that she'd answered the question wrong.

But in her heart, she thought, _Too late to turn back now. Besides, if she wants me to raise spoiled brats, she's delusional._

"B-because…I-I…don't think they should…if they're given what the-they're told they won't just…just because they screamed and yelled, it'll make them think that…that that'll get them what they want in…in later life too. Also, i-if I changed my rules and wasn't f-firm, they-I would lose m-my credibility. A-and yelling won't h-help...just make them resent you..."

Yori hoped she'd made sense just then, because she felt like she'd messed up irreparably.

Karura sneered contemplatively—Yori was getting quite good at interpreting sneers thanks to prolonged exposure to Rasa-sama—and asked, "And if the kid started beating you up?"

Yori gulped. "Then I'd get beaten up ma'am," she answered honestly, wincing at the future walloping she would probably receive (and wasn't it odd that she was _hoping_ to get this job?)

Karura said, "You called me ma'am. Keep doing that."

Yori nodded hastily, her ponytail bobbing with her head, making her look even more child-like than she already did.

"What do you think of Suna?" Karura asked next.

Yori wanted to say, _you've already asked me three questions_ _ **ma'am**_ , but figured that would get her killed. Instead she said, "I-It's my home ma'am."

Karura seemed satisfied with that. "What are your weaknesses?"

 _Where do I begin?_

Yori took a deep breath and then said, with complete honesty, "Spiders, ants, large animals, small spaces, bright lights, loneliness, small animals, heights and _baby carrots_. Also, the outdoors, but that one isn't crippling so I tend not to mention it too much."

Karura stared at her in disbelief. Rasa-sama stared at her in disbelief. Yashamaru stared at her in disbelief. The potted plant in the corner stared at her in disbelief.

"How do you _function?"_ Yashamaru asked, wide-eyed.

 _I'd explain it to you but your brain would explode,_ thought Yori, wondering if she even had an answer to that question.

Karura suddenly cackled. "Oh, I'm keeping this one."

Rasa-sama gave Yori an apologetic look.

Yori had a job.

Yori didn't feel like that was a win, somehow.

* * *

Sasori sat, straight-backed and deadpanned, staring at the innocuous cushion warily.

He'd gotten a full three hours of sleep before Chiyo-baa-sama had interrupted him, proclaiming loudly that he was 'wasting his youth sleeping' and 'needed to get laid soon' and that she 'needed great-grandchildren more than she needed oxygen' and etcetera.

Sasori had stopped listening after the first mention of _children_.

There was nothing wrong with children, but they were so…

No, he took that back, there was _everything_ wrong with children.

Unbidden, a vision of a red-haired baby with watery blue eyes and pouting lips floated to the forefront of his mind.

He pursed his lips, the first sign of proper emotion he'd shown in a month.

No, not even _that_ kind of baby.

Children were just…

Ugh.

Too much work, too much investment, too many variables, too much fuss, too much room for mistakes, required patience he didn't actually possess, just plain _annoying_ —

Sasori didn't think his arguments would make a difference to Chiyo-baa-sama; she was as stubborn as him at the best of times, but when it came to _babies_ , there was no out-stubborning her.

"I should return this cushion," he said out loud, making no move to actually do so.

He placed it on the work table in front of him, on top of wood-shavings and half-dried paint.

He suddenly slammed his face into it and decided that he'd return it.

Just as soon as he managed to get a full night's sleep.

 _If I'm at my table, Chiyo-baa-sama is less likely to disturb me,_ he thought, succumbing to a gentle sleep abruptly, like a computer shutting down when you press the power button down.

The smell of vanilla and tomatoes seeped into his very skin, and Sasori may or may not have had pleasant dreams that he couldn't remember in the morning.

* * *

 _Did I say I'd update more often? Haha, what an idiot I am! So what did you think of this chapter? Was it up to snuff? What do you think of Karura? And Yashamaru doesn't play that large a part yet I don't think…No love triangles, fair warning. And yes, Karura is already pregnant with Temari. Hehe, plot! Review please?_


	10. Woes of Parades Getting Out of Hand

_'I don't like making plans for the day, because then the term 'premeditated' gets thrown around in the courtroom.'_

* * *

Yori was not quite certain that fearing for her life when it wasn't being threatened was normal, but that's exactly what was happening.

It was a wonderfully warm day in Sunagakure no Sato, with several humans running around and feeling inadequate (like how she felt most of the time), and a huge procession coming down the street.

There were, of course, the straggling mourners who weren't joining in with the festivities, but that was all right—expected even. What _was_ a problem was that Mogi had let the snakes escape _again_. And now, Yori , who _really_ shouldn't have been in charge of that shit, was responsible for the nine people who'd been injected with boiling venom by the Kazekage's Sea Snakes.

She was understandably going insane.

And to top it all off, Rasa-sama was getting married today, hence the procession.

There were children and mothers and fathers and grandparents and uncles and aunts streaming through the streets, some fresh from warring, some fresh from showering, some fresh from trying to drown their sorrows in hard liquor…

It was chaos, and Yori, spineless and inept Yori, had been given the herculean task of organising said chaos.

 _Why me?_ she thought hysterically, trying to keep her shit together. _He's the one who's going to be Kazekage! He's the one who needs the practise!_

"Of course, if you _can't_ manage on your own, you can find people to help you," Rasa-sama said generously, and before she can get a word in edgewise about— _is that a fucking elephant!?—_ the situation— _that kid is going to fucking die—_ Rasa-sama had already left with his bride-to-be, who looked extremely pleased with herself.

Yori almost regretted not saying no.

Almost, because she was sort of, maybe, kind of glad that she was, while not on top of it, but in charge of it.

Who knew she liked responsibility?

Even if she already had strands of grey hair streaking through her ponytail…

* * *

Amidst the screaming and shouting and hollering and mad giggling, Sasori and Komushi were being swept away by the crowd, Sasori with a blank, irritated face of abject boredom, and Komushi bumping shoulders and nudging elbows and hollering himself hoarse.

"Right, make way fer the—here sir, don't be shovin'…is that the new one Kona?—what's this 'ere then chaps—watch yer step missus—"

If it wasn't beneath him, Sasori would have killed everyone by now.

As it stood, he'd just come back from the frontlines—another victory for Suna, so hurrah, at least until Jiraiya of the Densetsu no Sannin decided to show up, the tosser—and his uniform was sweat and blood-soaked, he just wanted to go home and sleep on his not-entirely-legally-appropriated cushion, and not have to deal with humanity in general, preferably for the next millennia or so.

But the crowd had a sort of inevitable magnetism, where if you were going against the flow of the crowd, you got swept up in it anyway (unless you killed them all or in some way shape or form made _skin contact_ with them, and Sasori had had enough of human interaction for this year, thank you very much), and here Sasori was, having been sideways twiddled forwards by not only three distinct people who'd claimed to be in his graduating class but who he couldn't recall (not that he wanted to—what was the point? They were sheep people who were going to die soon anyway) but also by Komushi, the _one_ human in the world he was all right with letting live.

Hence, he'd adopted a touch-me-and-die-but-stare-all-you-want-I'm-too-indifferent-to-rearrange-your-insides look, and it had happily been working.

In so far as about twenty people had just stopped and stared at his blood-covered face—none of it, of course, was _his_ blood— and then promptly looked away when he tilted his head in silent contemplation (ripping out the jugular first, or the spleen?)

And the worst part was that no one was even attempting to explain to him why this ridiculously perfect exhibition of mob mentality was even happening in the first place.

He'd tried asking Komushi with his subtle non-verbal cues, but Komushi was too busy being one with the mob to truly pay attention to Sasori's uncharacteristic confusion.

Of course, it got to the five minute marker and Sasori just stopped caring, so there was that…

Out of the crowd, and quite bravely so he might add, someone rammed right into his blood-splattered uniform, and began apologising profusely.

"I-I'm sorry! Ex-excuse m-me sir… " the child stuttered, trying to get past him. Sasori raised an eyebrow as the girl tried getting past him and then bumped into Komushi, and immediately, with sudden clarity, he realised that it was Female.

Komushi realised it too. "Ah, Yori-chan! You tryin' to get to th'front? 'Cause we've been tryin' fer ages, right Sasori-kun?" he prattled cheerfully, turning to Sasori as he addressed the question to him.

Female yelped in surprise and horror at having bumped into him—see? _She_ wasn't stupid; she knew he was a happy homicide just waiting to happen and showed the appropriate response to it!—and then did that irritating thing where people apologise even _more_ and waste _everybody's_ time.

"Stop," he said in monotone, although if one looked for it, they would notice irritation.

Female abruptly stopped, and for that, Sasori was grateful.

Then, just to sate his curiosity—and maybe a tiny bit because he wanted to talk to her just a little, though _why_ was up for debate—he asked, "Why has Suna turned into a sheep fest?"

He didn't mean for it to come out sounding as accusatory as it did, but the fact that she bobbed her head in sheepish apology made him think that it might _actually_ be her fault.

"A-ano, well, Rasa-sama is get-getting married today…" she said, trying to be quiet but realising that she had to be louder to be heard. She had just come up to normal volume, but luckily, Sasori had the rather useful ability of discerning noises in a miasmic mess.

"And."

"A-and…" she trailed off, forgoing looking him in the eye, and that irritated Sasori for some reason, "he wanted a parade…s-so he asked…um, well, asked isn't the right word…one of the Honoured Siblings to arrange it…"

Honoured Siblings?

So Sasori had his grandmother to blame for this?

Goddammit Grandma!

Sasori pinched the bridge of his nose and counted to ten, wondering if that would make any difference to the homicidal rage that had enveloped him.

It didn't.

"What're you doin' here Yori-chan?" asked Komushi, still shoving past the six year old that looked like she'd chomped many a shin today, and he was her next target.

"I-I'm supposed to…get them organised?" she said, although it ended up sounding like a question.

Sasori, exasperated with his situation, decided that it was time to do something about this 'parade'.

He reached into his pocket and, with a look at Female and Komushi to back away (something in Sasori smirked in satisfaction as they both did just that, without any verbal prompting), he released his thousand puppets from his special scroll of mass destruction and threateningly brandished each and every grotesque-looking wooden abomination in people's faces.

It was very silent after that.

Of course, he was sure that there was a rule he'd broken _somewhere_ about threatening civilians in a non-combat situation…

…but it was worth it, because his headache was receding…

(And Female would've been trampled in the attempt, though that _did not_ matter to him.)

* * *

They were in the dining pavilion by the time Yori had a chance to process what had happened just a half hour ago.

After silently threatening majority of Suna's population, Sasori had promptly turned to her and raised an eyebrow, silently telling her to get on with her appointed task. Yori had, ostensibly, freaked the fuck out, and hyperventilated her way through a Suna-wide address— _nearly five hundred people and oh my god why?!—_ telling them to walk in less of a hubbub and more of a straight line, towards the gigantic tent erected specifically for the wedding.

"A-And please try not to k-kill each other!" she ended, eyes wide in her plea. Several tittered, thinking she was joking, but she was being dead serious.

People died in stampedes.

She should know.

That's how Rose had died.

(There were, of course, extenuating circumstances, but the basic reason was definitely being trampled underfoot by a three hundred and fifty pound tub of lard.)

Sasori, believing her address to be over, retracted most of his puppets, leaving the ones at the edges of the crowd as creepy, childlike sentinels ensuring people didn't step a toe out of line.

Komushi had been hyperventilating with excitement, madly whispering in her ear, "You did it Yori-chan! Sasori-kun likes you!"

Yori wanted to give him a look of cutting razor-edge condescension and then kick him in the oopsie-daisy place, to get him to realise how _stupid_ that kind of thinking was, but she was too spineless to do so.

She let Sasori do it instead. (Of course, he didn't _kick_ Komushi, but The Look was enough.)

By the by, the people had made it in a neat and orderly fashion (ha!) to the dining pavilion, and were now mingling.

 _At least the only casualties were two Sea Snakes and a teddy bear…_ thought Yori, now scanning the crowd for either one of the hosts.

She passed by the table stacked with plates and plates and plates _and plates_ of mahshi (somehow, spiced rice rolled up in cabbage leaves actually _worked_ —and Yori made a mental note to grab some before they ran out), the excess mahshi because Karura-sama had had a craving this morning and refused to attend the wedding if there wasn't piles of it available.

Seeing as it was her wedding, that would have been a disaster.

Rasa-sama took things _very_ literally, and that's exactly how the catering staff would make the Kazekage bankrupt.

Just as she was passing the kulfi falooda vendor (the ice-cream-like milky sweetness topped with rose syrupy wiggly strands of cool sweetness brought back a _lot_ of happy childhood memories, both in this world and Rose's), she felt someone staring at her.

Goosebumps picked up on her back as she turned around and—

Why was Shingi glaring at her?

"Yori-tan~!" she whined with a pouty glare. "Why didn't you wear the clothes I sent you?"

 _Because I don't want to look like a cheap prostitute_ , is what she wanted to say, but instead, she said, "Because I don't want to look like you."

Shingi must not have heard the mildly derisive undertones (if you weren't looking for it, you couldn't really hear it either) and moaned, "But Yori-tan~! You would look so," and here the sultry voice came in, which made it sound like Shingi was orgasming, "so _delicious_."

She licked her lips seductively, bending over to look short Yori in the eyes, exposing her underwear for any and all onlookers to see.

Yori felt like digging a hole and jumping into it.

 _That's a lot of old men staring at her…_

Just then, two blurs barrelled into her from both sides, sandwiching her violently. Nae-chan was at her back and Komushi had crashed into her front, cushioned by her breasts.

Yori yelped in pained surprise and the two of them hugged her simultaneously, suffocating her as Nae-chan said, "Nee-chan, you're so cute!"

"Yori-chan, who's this?" asked Komushi, staring at Shingi in consideration.

Shingi took this to mean he was interested. Never mind that she looked like she could be his mother. "For you hun, _anyone_."

Komushi, of course, being the obtuse fruitcake he was, did not notice what this actually meant. "Oh, so you're an ANBU then?"

Shingi, being as she was completely in denial about people being _actually_ obtuse, purred and said, "Kinky."

Nae giggled and Yori contemplated seppuku.

And if things _needed_ to get worse, Rasa-sama and Karura-sama were heading their way, kicking people in the head absentmindedly.

"Yori!" yelled Karura-sama, her voice causing many to look over at her. "Where's the ice sculpture I asked for!?"

Rasa-sama groaned audibly, and the volume of the populous died down to hear their soon-to-be-famous lover's tiffs.

"We're in a fucking desert Karura!"

"Don't yell at me, you manslut!"

Rasa-sama's face went purple. "You wanna talk about infidelity? Bring it bitch!"

Yori would rather he didn't.

"I'm keeping the cushion," a voice informed her from behind her, and instead of jumping six feet in the air and having a cardiac arrest, for some inexplicable reason, Yori wasn't even slightly startled.

"We have too many of them anyway," replied Yori wrily.

Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on who's asked, this piqued Sasori's interest.

* * *

 _Wow. Two months. What even. So…stuff happens in this chapter, and I'd completely forgotten I hadn't updated until I got two reviews in one morning informing me that people are, in fact, reading this story…and what all of you have said so far? It makes my insides melt, I am so happy!_

 _So, nearly the entire cast was here (sorry Papa Shin), Shingi was perverted (let me know if it's too perverted, mkay?), Nae was…kind of there I guess, Komushi was obtuse, Sasori and Yori had_ feels development _guys!_

 _Review?_


	11. Woes of Feeling Validated

_'Getting married is like trading the adoration of many for the sarcasm of one.'_

* * *

The marriage was progressing as well as could be expected considering the wife-to-be had decided the groom was as useful as the dirt between her toes, and the husband-to-be had decreed that she was the worst sort of slut.

Did that stop either one of them from tying the knot anyway?

Absolutely not.

Yori was twisting and twirling through the crowd, making sure everything was functioning as planned and not as Shingi had planned (also, she'd checked _thrice_. Where the fuck was the salmon? That was literally the _only_ thing she'd told Shingi to organise!)

She'd had to tell the prostitutes from Mama Clucky's brothel that there would be no lesbian orgies required—the blushing was legendary. She didn't know where all that blood had come from, but by god, this was just _ridiculous_ and so help her, when this was over, _Shingi was dead_ —and then had to turn away the body-shaming society (no, she didn't get it either).

Then the ice sculpture came through the door, and all hell broke loose while the bride and groom exchanged vows.

Well, actually, exchanging vows might be the wrong thing to say.

Karura-sama, clothed in swathes of gold-embroidered finery with three different brightly coloured sequined shawls draped over her hair, across her shoulders and around her waist, dripping with silver beads and pieces of glass worked into it, wearing jewellery inlaid with rubies and blood opals wound around her head, her neck, her wrists and from her ears in resplendent luxury, and with rich browny-orange henna patterns twirling and swirling from her fingertips to her elbows, from her shin to her toes, on her left check and swirling and twisting down her throat…

She was _magnificent_.

The makeup artist Shingi had picked out had outdone herself, because Karura-sama was probably the most beautiful person Yori had ever seen—her eyes had smoky grey powder dusting the upper eyelid, pitch black kohl rimming her suddenly large striking indigo eyes, and a dash of shimmering barely-there chocolate brown lip gloss—

She wrenched her eyes away from the bride, wondering how Rasa-sama could grumble about marrying her when she was just about _perfection_.

But the point that Yori was trying to make, before she got so thoroughly distracted, was that the ceremony was very similar to _Rose's_ culture, where there was a human at the front who read something in a language that not many people understood, then prayed to a god that most believed in in a rudimentary sense, and then the bride and groom parted ways, until the reception.

Of course, from what she could remember, it had been Arabic in Rose's world, but right now it was in one of the tribe's ancient languages. She thought it might've been the fourth tribe of the fifteen tribes that founded Sunagakure no Sato, but she'd never been very good with history, or politics, or geography, or maths, or science, or art, or—

You get the picture.

But yes, while the sermon was going on as the bride tried to look suitably bashful and the groom tried to look suitably constipated (but all both of them managed to convey was _screw-you-too-prick!_ ), the ice sculpture arrived.

The stupidity of even _having_ a six hundred pound ice sculpture of a swan of all creatures, was that it was a _fucking desert._ Which meant that the minute it was taken out of its chakra-padded container, it melted.

It.

Melted.

On the _wedding cake._

Yori watched it, as if in slow motion, her eyes widening in horror, her jaw dropping and her tears welling, as the cake that she spent the better half of the entire budget getting made for over ten thousand people just…just get soggy from _an ice sculpture that she hadn't ordered._

May God protect Nae-chan, because Yori was coming for her.

* * *

Sasori watched Female desperately try to mop up the water as it came crashing down discreetly, and scoffed.

Idiot.

What did she think would happen to an ice sculpture in the middle of the desert?

He nearly turned away, but someone (he was almost certain it was Komushi, but he couldn't prove it) backed into him and, owing to how tired and sleep-deprived and just about _done_ with the world he was, he stumbled backwards and heard her muttering to herself.

"—and when I get a hold of her neck, I'll twist it like a chicken, and she'll squawk but I won't care, because _fuck_ this water—"

Sasori…Sasori didn't know what to think about this.

* * *

"We're going to screw now, right?" Karura said, lolling her head back and trying to stay out of the sun. For all that she was a kamikaze, being pregnant made the sun just that much less bearable.

Rasa turned to her, his eyes raking over her prone, ripe body, and he grinned. "That's the plan."

Karura grinned back, energy seeping into her in anticipation.

And with them married, they could procreate like rabbits, while Yori had to suffer at the hands of _clean up_.

* * *

"I got _three_ clients! Are you proud of me Yori-tan?" Shingi drawled, a twinkling light shining in her smoky eyes.

Yori was too busy muttering to answer politely, so she just said, "Great, congratulations. Couldn't've done it better myself."

Shingi continued rambling on about her sexcapades while Yori instructed the helpers in a harried manner, hoping that someone would smother Shingi with a pillow.

"Yori-chan!" yelled a voice, and even before turning, Yori regretted being alive.

"P-Papa, please do-don't—" she tried, but the man continued running towards her anyway, and he slipped on the icy water and crashed into the mahshi stall at 20 ms-1, ruining any and every salvageable part of this night by squashing the mostly unharmed mahshi under his knees and feet as he got up off the floor.

Yori was crying internally. It was like a haemorrhage, only more painful.

"Yori-chan!" he exclaimed again, brushing himself off. "You'll never guess what brilliant thing papa just did!"

The dread in the pit of Yori's gut was building up.

"P-papa?" she asked, afraid of the answer.

Papa Shin patted himself on the back a couple of times before brandishing a deadly-looking viper in Yori's face, its tongue flicking out and spewing venom angrily.

"I caught the snake, Yori-chan! Papa did good, yes he did!" he exclaimed, and it struck Yori, in the part of her mind that wasn't hysterical with fright, that maybe drunk Papa was better than sober Papa.

"Nee-chan," Nae said, her head popping out from behind the door. "Is there any cake left?"

The snake was a large animal.

Yori was certain that if Mama Haruka would've been alive, she'd have realised what was coming next _easily_.

As it stood, Yori gave way to a dead faint.

Large animals were _scary_.

"Nee-chan?" Nae blinked at her curiously, before Shingi finally broke off from her rather graphic description of anal sex with a camel-herder, and gasped dramatically.

"Yori-tan, Shingi's big breasts will save you!" she exclaimed rather proudly, bending down to rub herself onto Yori's fainted form.

From across the room, Yashamaru's danger senses were tingling, and he turned slowly to come face-to-face with Shingi's breasts.

As it turns out, Shingi needs glasses, but is too stubborn to get them, leading to all sorts of delightful shenanigans.

Yashamaru held onto consciousness admirably as the Kazekage's Sea Snake hissed, wondering when the clammy human would realise its offspring had fainted.

Even the snake was a better father…

Shingi smushed Yashamaru's sputtering face into her breasts, declaring, "Don't go into the light, Yori-tan!"

Yori, whose existence was filled with dead faints, promptly woke up without her father being any the wiser, after Nae poked her with a conveniently located iron rod. "W-Wha?" she said, trying to regain her bearings, only to see the snake and faint once more.

Nae was on poking duty again.

Meanwhile, Yashamaru's muffled cries were silenced by a woman who had a very low appreciation for personal space, and an even lower neckline.

This, it must be said, is the closest Yashamaru had ever come to losing his virginity, and probably the closest he ever _would_ come to losing his virginity.

Such is the mental scarring Shingi provides.

* * *

Yashamaru was a younger brother of a sister whose mood might as well have been a seesaw, and as such, his threshold on this elusive 'dignity' and 'self-respect' were tenuous at best.

Luckily, he'd found a kindred spirit.

Yori had been transported to the backroom after Shingi had realised that Yashamaru wasn't, in fact, the wedding organiser, and had promptly given him her address with a wink.

Yashamaru had let it burn.

As he stared at his impromptu patient, he became aware that she was actually quite beautiful, if you were into the childish, innocent gimmick. Yashamaru himself preferred pretty girls who retained a certain innocence, and he was contemplating getting to know Yori better when she woke up—

The door burst open and there, standing in all her fishing pole, sour-faced cackling glory, was Chiyo-sama.

"Is that my granddaughter-in-law? Ooh, breasts developing nicely!" she said, cackling, and then she blinked and growled. "I have to get the wedding dress adjusted again! Nice going!"

She glared at the unconscious girl. "You're lucky my grandson wants to fuck you senseless! I want the kid named after me for this!"

Without so much as a glance back, she zapped away, clucking madly.

Yashamaru decided that Yori was far too much trouble, and nicely went back into his protective snail shell.

* * *

The rumours spread like wildfire for the next three months, enough time for Yori to restock her cushion supply (they kept getting stolen, and she felt a tad bit giddy—though she had _no_ idea why—when she remembered it was Sasori-san doing the stealing. Of course, he could kill her at any time, but it couldn't be helped that she was getting used to the fact that _everyone_ could kill her at any time).

Also, enough time for Sasori to acquire an entire room full of cushions and other personal items that smelled vaguely of tomatoes and vanilla.

Also, enough time for Sasori to develop a strange sense of peace whenever he caught a whiff of the smell.

Also, enough time for Papa Shin to acquire certain _ideas_ that he really shouldn't have been exposed to.

"Yori-chan! Look at what Papa did!" he said proudly, hiccupping drunkenly.

Yori was being a productive member of society, and so didn't turn away from the broom she was using until after she'd swept the dust into a neat pile. "W-What is it, papa?"

He brandished a piece of paper into her face, and Yori blinked unintelligently at it. Reading had _definitely_ been the hardest thing she'd had to manage in this new life.

She traced the letters on the flyer papa had in his hand and…

"Papa," she whispered in strangled horror. "Why d-do you have a flyer for-for…"

Papa Shin had created a flyer and distributed it all over Suna, enlisting every hormonal specimen of the male sex with ample booze money's help to turn his unwed daughter into a 'true woman', whatever that meant.

Yori was afraid of going outside now, which was just another addition on a very long list of issues she had with the world.

Papa Shin was happily contemplating the booze.

Yori fainted. Again.

* * *

Sasori was on his way to the missions desk with the most bored expression on his face in the history of bored faces, when he noticed a flyer on the ground.

Littering was the second-most irritating act on the planet, the first being reserved for people who weren't on time. Sasori's eyes narrowed.

He could've bent down and picked it up, of course, but using chakra strings was much less physically strenuous, so he did just that, and then skimmed over the text ( _riddled_ with spelling mistakes, _honestly_ , proof readers existed for a _reason_ ) before his eyes landed on a picture of Female, nervously looking away from the camera.

He read the text again.

She wanted to get married? And she was asking for _anyone's_ help?

Forget the war. Sasori had flyers to find and burn.

And no, he wasn't completely sure _why_ , but since when did he care about reasons for his whims?

* * *

 _Of course, he doesn't get them all in time. And so, Yori gets exposed to many a dunderheads trying to woo her. ;) Soooo, how was the chappie? Review please?_


	12. Woes of Being Wooed

_'I don't need to flirt. I will seduce you with my awkwardness.'_

* * *

Yori blinked awake on a day where the temperature was just a few degrees shy of boiling.

 _A mild day, then,_ she thought irritably, after her few moments of obligatory freaking out. _I wonder if there's a way to take off your skin if you get too hot..._

Yori walked, as per usual, to the kitchen to make breakfast, but she never got around to it because by the time she reached the living room, Papa Shin had helpfully let Ikanago-san into the house. Yori contemplated patricide, but decided against it.

Too much effort, especially in this heat.

She froze at the archway like a deer caught in the headlights as Ikanago-san turned around from Papa Shin's rather eclectic story about a parrot that liked eating its own hamstrings.

Yori didn't get the punchline to that one.

"Ah, Yori-chan! I have come," he said, getting up with a flourish and nearly tripping over, "to _woo_ you!"

The part of Yori that wasn't freaking out at this declaration snorted. _Because that's_ completely _different to what you've been doing since day one._

"I-Ikanago-san…" she tried saying assertively. "I-I'm not in-intere—"

"Yori-chan, Ikanago-san brought papa lots of special booze!" Papa Shin exclaimed happily, overriding Yori's feeble stuttering.

Shingi appeared out of nowhere and added her two cents. "And he's got a big dick too. I'd rate his performance at 2 stars, but you can't have everything," she said, perfectly chic hairstyle perfectly in place.

Yori didn't want to know how she knew.

"I," Ikanago-san said, eyes narrowing at Shingi, "have had sex two times in my life, and I've heard no complaints!"

Shingi felt a certain affront to this man, who seemed to be dissing her rumour mill. She responded appropriately. "In my experience, corpses don't tend to complain."

Ikanago-san went bright red, Yori went pale, and Papa Shin was too tipsy to care.

Nae blinked at the doorway. "Didn't know you could have sex with corpses…" she muttered, a whole world of possibilities suddenly opening up to her.

* * *

Yori was taking the pile of laundry to the laundry unit when a balding man with an unfortunate lisp blocked her path with an unnatural smile.

"Yori~" he sung.

She yelped in fright and dropped all the linen to the ground. "Oh no…" she whimpered.

"I am Tonchiki~" he declared, looking every bit the numbskull he was named as. "I wrote a ruv poem fo' you~"

Yori dithered. To polite or not to polite?

"I know it's kind of corny~ But you make me really horny~"

Yori didn't even pause to listen to the rest of the shoddy rhymes. Somethings, once heard, could not be unheard.

And she was all out of brain bleach.

* * *

A boy who looked about nine but was actually thirty two gave Yori a terrified look.

Behind him stood two extremely buff macho men, looking menacing.

Yori regretted ever leaving the house.

"A-Are you a chicken?" he squealed in a strained soprano.

Yori trembled as the two buff men leaned into her personal space. One of them sniffed her. The other one's scowl deepened.

"B-Because y-you're impec-impec-impeccable," he finished, staring at the ground. He then proceeded to vomit.

The two buff men instantly started patting him on the back, booming voices echoing around the marketplace. "WELL DONE RIKU-SAMA! EVERYONE, LOVE RIKU-SAMA!"

The other man said in the girliest voice Yori had ever heard, "I LOVE RIKU-SAMA! DO YOU LOVE RIKU-SAMA?"

"YES I DO! DO YOU LOVE RIKU-SAMA?"

"RIKU-SAMA INVENTED LOVE!"

"ALL PRAISE RIKU-SAMA!"

"Mother, father..." he whispered, eyes sparkling with unshed tears of the dramatically ironic variety.

Leaving the strange group to their shenanigans, Yori quickly grabbed the toilet paper she'd come for and bid a hasty retreat.

Somethings were better left unquestioned.

* * *

"YOUR FACE."

Yori turned around mechanically to see a bearded hobo wearing his underwear on his head.

She _really_ regretted leaving the house.

"I like that shit!"

Yori crab-walked away.

* * *

"Hey baby," a man called out with a cheesy grin.

Yori didn't even bother with pretences. She just fucking _ran_.

* * *

When she got home after a long day of hard work, trying to ward off all the stupidity of the day ( _someone_ had let the sea snakes out again!) (Also, Shingi was _crazy._ ) (Also, she'd had to spend an hour telling Nae that it wasn't _normal_ to go to the morgue to request a corpse 'for sexual practice') (Also, for some bizarre reason, Rasa-sama's sheets had blood on them. She knew for a _fact_ Karura-sama wasn't a virgin), Yori tiredly headed to the kitchen.

It was dinnertime soon, and Papa Shin would be back from his bender in an hour. Nae would soon follow, right after she'd apologised to the hospital morgue for the 'misunderstanding'. It was time to scrounge around the kitchen for something edible (the rationing was getting worse the longer the war dragged on), but when she _reached_ the kitchen…

There was a bouquet of wilted cauliflowers waiting for her.

Yori robotically walked to the wall and banged her head on it. She looked at the table again.

It was still there.

"Why?" she muttered. "Why is this my _life_?"

There was a note attached to the cauliflowers. Yori treated it with the excessive caution it deserved.

Yori blinked at it for a few seconds before taking it to the stove and burning it.

She put the wilted cauliflowers in the icebox though—no sense in wasting perfectly edible food.

* * *

Yori ran into her house, frantically locking the door.

Ikanago-san was _back_.

Over the last six days, she'd had five proposals, nineteen requests for a one night stand, and _seventy six_ pick-up lines thrown her way.

 _I'll kill papa for this! I'm fucking done!_

She turned away from the door and found a stripper in her house.

Her first thought was, _we eat on that table, and now I'm going to have to throw it away._

Her second thought was, _wait, papa has needs?_

Her third thought was, _no, no he doesn't. This one's mine again._

She was completely correct.

"Yori-chin, correct?" she drawled in a throaty voice, skeins of brown hair in a pixie-cut giving her a predatorial appearance.

It must be noted that Yori looked like a lamb waiting for slaughter.

"What do you say to a good time?"

Papa crawled out of his room. "Yori-chan! Papa is…who's this?" he asked, face flushed. He'd been drinking again.

The stripper gave him a flirty wink. "I'm here to turn your daughter into a _real woman_."

Yori was scared witless.

No, seriously, she was. So witless that she actually _said_ something. "…had it."

Papa Shin and the stripper were too deep in their conversation to notice.

"But you can't marry my daughter!" Papa Shin pointed out.

"I have booze," replied the stripper.

"On second thought," said Papa Shin, nodding sagely, "you're making several excellent points, and I think—"

Yori frog-marched to her room and slammed the door shut, tears leaking from the corner of her eyes in hysteria.

 _Why is this my_ _ **life?**_

She just wanted to go to bed now. She'd stopped caring that she had work in a few minutes, that she had responsibilities that she couldn't shirk without letting Nae and papa starve (though the latter was giving her really good reasons to not care about that) and even that the tomatoes had run out. She was _done._ She was _not_ facing the world!

She turned to go to her bed.

She paused.

She stared.

 _What's Akasuna no Sasori doing in my room?_

He was staring at her with half-lidded eyes, and Yori knew she ought to be scared. Really, she should.

But she'd reached _fuck this shit I don't care_ levels of stress.

Yori took this moment to note that his tousled red hair and sleepy face made him look…strangely cute.

She mentally bludgeoned the little voice that noted this into a coma.

His red eyes didn't _look_ menacing, and for the first time in six days, a man wasn't looking at her either in terror, lust or misplaced arrogance.

"I'm going on a mission," he said abruptly.

Yori nodded, wondering why he'd told her this.

He then proceeded to jump out of her window.

A few moments later, Ikanago-san's voice yelled, "You broke my _pelvis!"_

Yori stumbled to the window and saw Sasori holding the box of chocolates Ikanago-san had been trying to give her like a weapon of mass destruction.

 _He broke a man's pelvis with a box of chocolates_.

For the first time in a long time, Yori laughed.

* * *

Sasori was irritated. He didn't know why he'd told Female he was going on a mission. It had just seemed like the thing to do. She'd probably wonder why no one was stealing her cushions anymore.

That wasn't why Sasori was irritated.

For one, didn't this idiot _know_ Female wasn't interested?

 _There are retards, and then there's_ this _,_ Sasori thought, deciding to rectify the stupidity via the only medically-approved treatment: physical violence.

"You broke my _pelvis!"_ squealed the thing.

Sasori gave him a bored look. "I wasn't aware that I'd given you the impression I cared."

Suddenly, he heard tinkling laughter, and for some inexplicable reason, his heart started beating faster.

His eyes immediately knew where to look even before his brain had processed the need to look, and there was Female, a wide innocent smile on her face and crinkled blue eyes looking at him with refreshing mirth.

She then blushed a bright red and quickly looked away.

Sasori was facing a mental dilemma. This had never happened before, and he was feeling conflicted. Should he simply kill her?

A faction of his mind wanted to go back to her room, although what he would do after that was up for debate.

Another part of his mind wanted to go on a killing spree.

A third was working out how he could use the potency of that laugh on the battlefield.

Another carefully stored that memory away for sweetening dreams.

The largest part was blaring flashing red sirens and calling for an abort mission, because _why was his brain malfunctioning?!_

Sasori decided, instead of thinking about the reasoning behind his sudden irrationality, that he would do whatever the fuck he pleased.

Because he was Akasuna no Sasori.

He went to the Suna gates, mind already made up to incorporate her smile into his Female puppet's mechanics.

If it made _him_ irrational, he could only imagine what it would do to his victims.

And then there was a very tiny voice in him that he hadn't listened to since his parents had died, a voice he'd thought had died a long time ago.

 _I want to make her laugh again._

* * *

Yori suddenly, inexplicably, seemed to find the power to face the day again.

A tiny curl of warmth coiled in the pit of her stomach every time she remembered that the most sociopathic puppeteer in the history of Suna had broken someone's pelvis.

 _For me_.

She killed that thought with a machete. She wasn't _that_ delusional.

It was a nice thought though…

* * *

 _*squints at chapter* Was that…was that romantic development guys?!_

 _Thoughts on the chapter? Like, seriously, I didn't think this was all that funny, but hey, I tried! Review and let me know? Please?_

 _Also, Sasori's character. Can we just establish that his first thought was that he should kill her instead of dealing with the feelings she was evoking?_

 _And then he_ didn't? _I don't know about you, but that's LOVE. Yes. Shh._

 _And Yori's actually fairly okay with violence. She just can't dish any out, because consequences are a thing to her. I hope I did justice to their characters! Komushi coming up next to muck everything up! Teehee._


	13. Woes of Getting Engaged

_'I think stupid people were put on this planet to test my anger management skills.'_

* * *

Yori was nearing the end of her tether.

Not only had Ikanago-san not taken the hint after the pelvis incident, but he'd _also_ decided to send her love poetry every other day.

Yori didn't _like_ poetry—it was too stupid for her, and she didn't see the need for flowery words when he could _just_ as easily given her something edible that she could actually _use_ —but Ikanago-san's poetry was at a whole other level.

 _Breasts as big as balloons,  
Eyes as wide as the moons,  
Curves as delicious as honey,  
I have lots of money!  
Marry me?_

She'd give him this—at least he was getting better at the rhyming.

And then there was the mysterious wilted cauliflower sender, who didn't seem to understand the concept of courtship. Otherwise, he'd have actually given her his _name_.

She would have tracked this person down of course, except she didn't want to deal with the consequences.

Ever.

Then there were the serenaders, who still hadn't managed to work out that they were _ridiculously_ out of tune.

Then there was this one guy that'd decided that she liked getting slapped with a half-eaten fish every time she walked past his stall. Yori was _very_ tempted to slap back, but she didn't actually think she'd get away with it.

She endured it in fuming silence.

At least, she _had_ , until Komushi had decided to pay her a visit.

"Yo, Yori-chan! I was just headin' to the Leaky Lettuce an' I heard you hadn' had lunch so I thought I'd treat ya 'cause it's been a while and the food'll be great an' we can talk about the floral 'rrangement or somethin'!" he hollered in one breath as came out of the laundry room, having just dumped all the sheets in there for someone else to clean.

"F-Floral arrangement for what?" she asked, stupidly getting into a dialogue with him.

Komushi gave her a very wide grin and chirped, "For your weddin', o'course!"

Yori blanched and, in a fit of complete recklessness, she gave a very menacing grimace to her probably only friend, and whispered, "Who the _fuck_ said I was getting married?"

Komushi brushed the entire out-of-character-ness aside in true idiot fashion, and grinned, "Nah, I was just kiddin'! But I _was_ serious 'bout the dinner, and Shingi-san said it's your lunch break right now, right? So you _can't_ say no!"

Yori made plans to smother Shingi with a pillow.

And in thusly manner, a stuttering Yori was dragged to the Leaky Lettuce (the architect _must_ have been drunk), which was a little dhaba with a lot of foot traffic.

"They serve mostly south Suna cuisine, but ya gotta love the spices!" Komushi explained, showing off his teeth as the sound of sizzling met their ears.

Yori felt like she was in food heaven. Every aroma she had ever smelt on the streets of Suna that she'd always wished was more prominent, was now surrounding her in a cloud of thyme, chili, coriander, cumin, fenugreek and cloves, vying for her attention even as she sat down at one of the outside seating arrangements.

"Ho, Komushi's back, eh?" a rotund man chortled, his skin darker than most Suna citizens, clearly identifying him as one of the southern Suna tribes. "And with a pretty _chirya_ as well!"

Komushi chortled with the man, exclaiming, "No way, Aru-san! I'm too busy hookin' up Sasori-kun to be thinkin' o'myself!"

"Ho!" said Aru-san, peering at Yori over his bushy moustache. "So _you're_ Sasori-san's _pyari_?"

Yori didn't understand some of the words he was saying, probably because it was his tribe's dialect, but that didn't mean she couldn't blush fifty shades of red to give weight to his completely misguided assumptions. "N-No…I-I'm not…"

And there went her spine.

"We're still at the water testin' phase!" Komushi said, winking heartily. "Till then, wanna give Yori-chan a run through o'the secret menu?"

Yori's lower lip was trembling again as Aru-san guffawed. "Wait, _you're_ Yori, daughter of Haruka?"

A dreadful feeling of foreboding shot down her spine.

"Y-Yes," she stuttered, nodding.

"Well," Aru-san said, looking at Komushi, "you _sure_ know how to pick them, _nalayak!_ Isn't she the one who wrote an ad for a husband? I thought she was dead ugly or something, but turns out she's just trying to get out of your web!"

Komushi's smile froze on his face, and then he turned to give Yori the most wounded look he could muster. "Is that true, Yori-chan?"

Yori's left eye twitched. She was having enough difficulties repelling Nae's puppy eyes without having Komushi, who looked like he'd just hit the voice-breaking stage of puberty, giving her a hard time too!

"I didn't send out any ad," she said, her irritation getting rid of the stuttering. "And if I find out who _did_ , there'll be no mercy."

Aru-san laughed, saying, "Ho, so scary, _chirya!_ Well, we've got iddyappam, aloo paratha, puttu, kadala curry, sambar, dosa, idli, butter chicken, khichra, tehri, biryani, sarson ka saag—"

Yori felt dizzy, unprepared for so many unknown words.

Komushi decided to have mercy on her and said, "She'll have what I'm havin', Aru-san, so the usual!"

Yori took a few deep breaths. "You and Sasori-san come here often?" she asked finally, curious for some inexplicable reason.

Komushi replied, "Hmm? Oh, yeah! Well, I like eatin', and Sasori-kun's real nice 'bout treatin' me to food, so he brings me here a lot, 'cause my family's from the South and it's like a bit o'home!"

She could hear sizzling in the background, which sent out a steam of frying chicken and masala and butter out into the open air, and before she could absorb the fact that Akasuna no _murdering_ Sasori bought food for Komushi in a hitherto unforeseen turn of altruism, Aru-san had brought out a steaming bowl of mouth-watering rich, thick soup with generously marinated chicken, making it tender and juicy, the buttery scent mixing perfectly with the aroma of the steaming rolls of coconut-shaving covered rice, lightly crispy at the top and soft and moist at the centre.

"Enjoy!" Aru-san said as one of his workers brought out some plates for them, and a basket of freshly made naan.

Yori was ready to gorge herself when she realised there was no cutlery or serving spoons. "Er…Komushi-san…how do we take out the food?"

Komushi looked at her grinningly. "Yori-chan's never eaten SouSuna food, huh? We eat directly from the servin' plates! The plates 're for keepin' your naan in—look, I'll show ya!"

With that, Komushi picked up a naan, tore a bit off, and dipped it into the bowl of creamy broth. He then proceeded to eat it before any of it spilt.

"Your turn!" he said, swallowing.

Yori remembered communal eating like this before, remembered it well. Whenever there had been a feast at Rose's family's house, there used to be a huge goat roasted and braised, with piles of spiced rice and side dishes surrounding it, and everyone used to sit around the delicacy and eat until they were full, merrily chatting and laughing.

But she didn't remember any of that happening in restaurants before…

Ah well. This was clearly a different world, after all.

Yori mimicked Komushi and brought the delectable butter chicken to her mouth, and it was like her mouth exploded with the sensations, as buttery scent melded with buttery taste and tempered itself with the plain wholesomeness of the naan.

Yori was in heaven.

* * *

After speedily savouring every last morsel of food, Aru-san brought out something called gulaab jamun, which were round deep fried dough balls steeped in simmering sugary syrup, and while she ate that, Komushi broached the subject Yori hadn't even known was a thing to be broached.

"So, Yori-chan, we're friends, right?" Komushi said, gazing deeply into her eyes.

If Yori didn't feel drugged on good, rich food, she'd have felt uncomfortable.

"Yeah," she replied, "even if you drive me up the wall, we're friends."

She gave him a small smile, and he returned it with a blinding one, his cheeks lightly pinked and his heart skipping a beat.

"So, that means that if you, ya know, fell in love with Sasori-kun or somethin', you'd tell me, right?" he said, blinking eagerly as he stuffed an entire gulaab jamun into his mouth, eyes not leaving hers.

Yori took a deep breath. "Komushi-san, I…" she began, but then lost her train of thought completely as the stresses of her life caught up to her. Her baby blue eyes started watering, and her cheeks turned pink, as she started breathing rapidly. "There are so many people trying to date me!"

As the dam burst and she relayed all her irritations and inconveniences to the fidgety red haired, left arm-less crippled fifteen year old, about how she didn't have any more room in the kitchen to store the cauliflowers, wilted or otherwise, and that Ikanago-san's poetry _actually_ sucked and could someone _shoot_ him already! And that the six men who lived together and she was pretty sure were all asylum escapees were trying to get her to join their teddy bear worshipping cult via bouquet-of-roses-giving asphyxiation, Komushi's genius (read: insane) mind came up with the perfect solution to kill two birds with one kunai.

Mwahahahahaha.

"I want it all to stop!" she breathed, concluding her rant and pouting sadly at the empty dessert bowl. " _And_ there's no more dessert left to make this better!"

Komushi cracked his knuckles anticipatorily, his grin a touch manic. "Yori-chan, I know how to fix this!"

Yori looked at him with something bordering on burgeoning hope. "R-Really?"

"Yeah! You just leave it to me, okay? Let's get you home for now, 'cause you have work, right?"

Yori felt a slight tingle of danger at the glint of manic happiness in Komushi's eyes, but the food was good, and she was full, and she would not let her danger-senses ruin this moment.

"T-Thank you, Komushi-san," she said gratefully.

He gave her huge grin and a thumbs up.

* * *

Komushi, after dropping Yori back to the Kazekage household, went back to the Leaky Lettuce and stood on top of a chair, grabbing _everyone_ in the general vicinity's attention.

"Everybody!" he began, looking like an announcer at a football stadium. "Let it be known far and wide, tell everyone you know, spread the word! My master, Akasuna no Sasori, son of Kunyo, and Yori, daughter of Haruka, are now officially engaged!"

Everyone started wolf-whistling and howling, all enjoying the news that one of their war heroes was settling down, though they'd not heard of the girl before.

Komushi accepted loads of congratulations, let everyone look at a candid picture of her he'd taken while she wasn't aware—"Whoa, she _is_ pretty!" "Hey, isn't she the one from the flyer?" "Nah, probably just old Shin pullin' our legs!" "Sasori-san's gonna eat her alive, int he?" "Probably, but at least he'll get good sex out of it!"—and then merrily took the news home.

"Now no one'll bother ya, Yori-chan, 'cause everyone knows not to mess with Sasori-kun, and your problem's fixed! I did good, right?" he said, talking to himself as he skipped back to tell Granny Chiyo all.

Ah, stupidity...

* * *

Sasori, in the process of blowing people up and poisoning their rations, was wondering how best to go about making Female laugh again.

…maybe he'd write her poetry?

He immediately discarded that thought. He had _dignity_.

Maybe he'd get Komushi to write her some poetry, and then both of them could laugh at the stupidity.

* * *

Lady Chiyo was ecstatic.

She cackled mentally, already picking out baby names and caterers.

 _I'm going to have grandbabies!_

* * *

When Ikanago-san heard the news, he refused to believe it. The power of delusion is an awe-inspiring thing.

When Shingi heard, she immediately went over to Yori's house to secure her position as henna designer. The door was promptly slammed on her face, and she, delusional in the extreme, attributed that to pre-wedding jitters.

When Nae heard, she spread it to the entire Kazekage household staff, embellishing the non-existent love story to mythical proportions.

When Rasa-sama heard about the engagement, he fussed over what wedding present he should get them, and whether he needed to vet the groom.

When Karura-sama heard, she laughed herself into early labour.

Sasori and Yori, it must be said, never actually found out they were engaged.

Ever.

It seemed no one had thought to tell them, because _of course_ they knew, surely!

Mwahahahahaha.

* * *

 _And there is the plot twist! Whenever anyone congratulates Yori, she doesn't actually know why they're doing it because she's ridiculously terrified. No one quite knows how to approach Sasori...at all. So they're blissfully unaware of the background shenanigan-causers, who are planning their wedding down to the last grain of rice. Ha!_

 _What did you think of the chapter? Was it funny? I tried! Was everything to your liking? Please review?_


End file.
